Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

One by one, she was losing the people closest to her and perhaps, her home as well. Appealing to God had seemed about as helpful as whispering to the wind. If God chose to heap problems on her and not lift a finger to ease her distress, she wouldn’t give Him the pleasure of hearing her pray. She could look to no one but herself for decisions that would affect her future.

She stood at her bedroom window and watched the full moon slip between the clouds in an overcast sky. She breathed the comforting scent of the damp earth of her home, shivering in the chilly air as she began to unhook the tiny buttons that closed the back of her dress.

She blinked, staring hard as a dark form moved from the barn toward the pump at the old well. She held her breath as she tried to make out what had collapsed near the well and was now lying still. As the moon made a brief appearance through the layer of clouds, Caroline could see the prostrate figure of a man.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

by

Karen Cogan

Fragile Dreams

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Fragile Dreams

COPYRIGHT © 2008 by Karen Cogan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Kim Mendoza

The Wild Rose Press

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Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First White Rose Edition, 2008

Print ISBN 1-60154-513-4

Published in the United States of America

Fragile Dreams

Dedication

For the Lord

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER ONE

February 3, 1865

Nate’s left side ignited in an explosion of white hot pain. He felt his legs go out from beneath him as he sank to the ground, stunned. For a moment, he could not grasp that the gunshot he’d heard had produced his agony. He could not comprehend the violence that had suddenly shattered his peaceful afternoon. He realized too late that he’d been caught off guard by the morning’s success. A troop of rebel soldiers had been captured in the woods just after dawn; Nate and two of his men had trudged back, assigned to make sure there were no stragglers. They didn’t expect to find anyone. The quiet woods gave no hint of life, save for the birds and an occasional squirrel that scampered high overhead. Now he was down, and he’d heard enough gunfire to recognize the report of a rifle. His confusion dissolved into the reality that a bullet had knocked him from his feet. He’d seen lots of men shot. He’d watched men die. Nate had felt invincible, as though the protecting hand of God rested over him… until now.

His two companions knelt beside him. “The Lieutenant’s been hit.”

Private Nelson’s words made no sense to Nate. He felt nothing now. Only shock.

Corporal Parker studied the wound with worried eyes which Nate only barely comprehended. “These woods were supposed to be clear of rebels. Which way did the shot come from?”

The Private shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see nothing. I just saw the Lieutenant go down.”

“We’ll lead them away and come back for you,” Corporal Parker promised.

Nate nodded. He lay on his side in the scraggly grass and watched the men crouch before they dashed to the cover of the nearest tree. Shots rang from the sheltering ambush of the woods. His men returned fire.

Nate tried to raise himself onto his elbow, but the pain returned, making him dizzy and weak. He parted the grass and found he could see his men. Two horsemen had stolen up behind them. Nate couldn’t raise himself high enough to see their faces, only the dark boots that rested in the stirrups.

“Drop your guns,” demanded a gruff voice. Nelson and Parker had no choice but to obey. Their weapons landed with a dull thud onto the leaf covered ground. The horsemen edged forward.

“Turn around,” commanded the second rider. The men turned slowly.

“You’re not soldiers,” Parker observed.

“If we were soldiers we’d have to take prisoners,” drawled the first captor.

“Thanks to one of your canons, I’m not a soldier anymore,” added the second. He squeezed off the trigger of his musket and Nelson hit the ground. The other man fired directly at Parker who fell beside Nelson.

Nate sank onto the earth, weak from shock at the cold-blooded murder of his men. Any moment, they might discover him and finish the job. The bush to his right quivered. He turned to the sound and saw the figure of a child crouched low behind the bush. The boy tensed as the crackle of parting underbrush brought the men’s booted footsteps in Nate’s direction.

“Where’s the one who went down first?”

“Over there.”

Someone parted the bushes. Nate felt consciousness slipping away. He lay still, eyes closed as he offered his soul to God and waited for the shot.

“Not worth a bullet. He’s already dead.”

****

Caroline pulled her faded beige shawl over her shoulders and stepped onto the portico. The chill of late afternoon penetrated the thin cotton of her skirt. She shivered as she scanned the fields that ended at the edge of the woods. The shots she’d heard frightened her. Andrew was out there somewhere. She was responsible now for the safety of her brother. She should never have let him leave the house. But it was so hard to keep a young boy cooped up with two women.

The door opened behind her, and she knew Gran had stepped out. Caroline felt her Grandmother’s gnarled old fingers close gently on her forearm.

“Come on in, honey, before you catch your death of a chill.”

Caroline looked into Gran’s dark eyes. “Didn’t you hear the shots?”

Gran frowned. “I guess my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

Caroline shivered. “I want to bury myself under my covers and hide my ears. I never want to hear another gun shot. But Andrew is out there somewhere.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “What if he’s been hurt?”

Gran shook her head. A lock of grizzled grey hair had worked loose from its pin. “I’m sure Andrew’s okay. Still, these are dangerous times, especially for young people.”

Gran’s words failed to assure Caroline. If her other brother, James, failed to return from war, Andrew and Gran would be the only kin she’d have left. She remembered the way young Andrew patted her hand when Pa died last fall, and how he’d assured her he’d take care of her now. But Andrew was a child of ten, and she was a woman of twenty. It was she who must learn to be firm in protecting and caring for her young sibling.

Though her worn corset could hardly be laced tight enough to restrict her breathing, a tightness filled her chest as she peered into the gathering twilight. Andrew knew better than to worry her like this. Perhaps she should cut a switch off one of the magnolia trees that lined the drive and teach him a lesson. She sighed, knowing she could not force herself to do such a thing. Andrew was usually an obedient child. Perhaps knowing how much he’d worried her would be enough to keep him from repeating this behavior. If she couldn’t force herself to punish him physically, she certainly wouldn’t mince words.

She clutched at Gran.

“There! Look!” Andrew’s tousled blond head appeared, bobbing as he dashed through the stubble of the field.

Gran squinted. “I expect you’ve got better eyes than me, too, but I told you he’d be coming. I’m going in to finish supper.”

Caroline placed her hands on her hips in a gesture she’d seen her mother use when Caroline and James had been naughty. Andrew didn’t remember Mama. She’d died giving him birth. So Caroline would have to stand in her place. Andrew reached the porch. His green eyes were wild and wide. His face looked so pale that Caroline hesitated before scolding him.

“Where have you been?”

Andrew placed a dirt encrusted hand atop the porch rail and stared down at his feet while he caught his breath.

“Did you hear me, Andrew? I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been?”

He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “Out to get berries. We never have pies any more, and I was hankering for Gran to make a pie. So I went looking to see if there was any early berries.”

“I heard shots in the woods. I was scared sick something had happened to you. Did you hear the shots?”

Andrew nodded. His chin quivered, and his jaw tensed with determination to subdue his emotions.

Caroline studied him. A chill filled her heart. What had this child seen to frighten him so?

Forgetting all about her need to scold, she tugged him toward the entry. “You come in and tell me what’s bothering you.”

She closed the heavy door behind her and faced her brother. “What happened out there?”

Andrew shifted his feet. “Dunno. I didn’t see nothing.”

“Anything,” Caroline corrected. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I heard shots so I hurried home.”

“You stay out of the woods for awhile, you hear?”

Andrew nodded.

“Supper’s on,” Gran called.

“Wash up,” Caroline told Andrew. She still had doubts as to whether he’d told her everything, but she knew of no way to pry any more out of him. He was home safe, and that was what mattered most.

Gran set out biscuits and gravy and coffee made from ground yams. Caroline felt her stomach tighten at the smell of food. Though they had not had to go hungry, she steadfastly pushed from her mind the memories of fried chicken, ham and mounds of steaming vegetables. The winter had dragged interminably since Pa died.

Caroline put on a cheerful front. “Won’t be long now until we can plant a vegetable garden. We can have fresh peas and turnips all summer long.”

“Yes, it’ll be nice to see spring,” Gran agreed.

Caroline cast a worried glance at her brother. Andrew’s appetite usually drove him to devour whatever Gran set on the table. Tonight, he pushed his biscuit about, hardly eating half of what he’d been served. Caroline placed a hand on his cool forehead. “No fever. I guess you’re not sick. What’s bothering you?”

Andrew shrugged. “Guess I’m just not hungry.”

“Then you might as well help clear the table, and then get ready for bed.”

Andrew allowed her to precede him as they carried the dishes to the wash tub. She smiled at his manners. They might end up dirt poor, but no one would take away the fact that she’d make sure Andrew grew up to be every bit a gentleman.

A rap at the front door interrupted the clatter of dishes. Caroline’s hand flew to her throat as her heart set up a staccato beat. Though she received little news about the war, smoke from canons told her there’d been fighting along the river. Sherman’s army was on the march. If James had been in that battle, he could be wounded or dying. Perhaps, someone was bringing her news. She stared at Gran, her muscles frozen with dread.

“Are we expecting anybody tonight?” Gran asked.

Caroline shook her head. “I’ll go see who it is.” She looked at Andrew’s tense face and saw a reflection of their older brother. Andrew was growing to look more and more like James. He had the same green eyes and fair hair James had possessed at the same age. She wondered if his hair would grow darker as time passed, as James’s had.

She opened the door, to see James’s friend, Jed. Jed Mason was the sheriff of this county. Since Jed had returned with an injury from battle, he was one of the few eligible young men in the county to come calling.

“Why Jed, won’t you come in?”

“I apologize for not asking permission to call. I was in the area and took the liberty of stopping by.”

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief that he was not bringing tragic news.

Andrew was standing in the doorway, so Caroline called to him, “You come ahead and say ‘hi’ to Jed. Then, you go up to bed. I’ll come along in a bit to tuck you in.”

Andrew held back. Caroline felt her frustration mount. “Andrew, I won’t have you being so balky. Now do as I say.”

Andrew took two small steps into the room, and froze. Jed’s eyes rested on Andrew. “Good evening, Andrew. You hurry on to bed. I’ve come to borrow your sister for a while.”

Caroline flinched at the patronizing tone toward her young brother. Jed had returned from war a man changed from the careless youth who had vied for her attention. Those days seemed so far behind them that an unwelcome knot of pain swelled in her throat. Pleasant evenings of balls and parties at other plantations were but memories now.

“Go on up, Andrew,” she said lightly. “I’ll be along soon.”

Andrew backed toward the stairs. The paleness of his face worried Caroline. She would have to get Gran to mix up one of her awful tasting remedies if he didn’t improve soon.

Jed bowed as she re-entered the room. “You look a picture of beauty.”

Caroline flushed. She knew wisps of dark hair had escaped her bun to frame her face. Her dress, once a bold print of tiny red and green flowers, had faded, and the cuffs had frayed. She pushed these thoughts from her mind. It was wrong to entertain vanity when men, perhaps even her brother, were dying in the war. Nonetheless, with a smile, she thanked him for the compliment.

She sat on the other end of the settee and tried to sort the feelings that his presence always brought. He thought himself a suitor. That much was obvious. And she should be happy to have a beau. On the awful chance that James did not return, they could lose the plantation if they didn’t have a man’s help to run it.

Yet she felt chilled by the thought of marrying Jed. His eyes held the warmth of two blue marbles. And his often harsh expression belied the smile that curved his lips. The friend she’d once known was gone and she didn’t know the man he’d become.

He regarded her with frank interest. “I hope I didn’t impose on your hospitality by my unannounced visit.”

Truth be told, Caroline would much prefer to have knitted by lamplight in the warm kitchen with Gran. Since it would be rude to admit as much, she shook her head.

“There’s not much to do on winter evenings except worry about the war.”

Jed shook his head. “My deputy had word the Yanks got past the roadblock at the river. Sherman’s men waded downstream behind our troops. Major General McLaws had to retreat toward Branchville.”

Caroline sucked in her breath. “It’s going badly for our men. We can’t hold on much longer, can we?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head. No Yankees are going to come anywhere near here. My men and I will personally see to that.”

Caroline had not been truly afraid of the Yankees, at least not yet. She simply wanted the war over in hopes that life would go on the way it had before. It would be harder to plant the crops without the handful of slaves that had worked the land. But if they could raise a good crop themselves for one year, they could afford hired help the next. She brought her thoughts back to hear Jed’s bitter recriminations.

“If I hadn’t got wounded, I’d be helping the effort right now, killing as many Yanks as got in my sight. Whether I’m in uniform or not, I’m still a confederate soldier and proud of it.”

At the tremble in his voice, Caroline laid her hand on his sleeve. “Of course you are.”

With the speed of a hawk catching prey, he clasped her hand beneath his own. His fingers felt cool and clammy. Caroline shivered and longed to withdraw her hand. Yet, he held her so firmly that she could not. He looked into her eyes. The battle scar next to his mouth widened as he smiled, forming a grotesque line down his chin.

“You must have noticed my affection for you, Caroline. It must be hard for you, trying to raise Andrew and run this place all by yourself.”

“Gran is a great help,” Caroline blurted, wanting to stop him from offering a proposal.

“Of course she is,” Jed continued smoothly. “But Gran is getting old. Even with her help you’re carrying a terrible burden. Who will help you put in a crop this spring? You have to be realistic. What will you live on?”

She stiffened, pulling her hand free. “I’ve had no news of James. My hope is that he will return.”

The smile left Jed’s eyes. In its place, cold calculation glittered. He ran a hand along his face. “War often results in damage. I don’t mean to worry you, but if he does return he may be too injured to be of much use. I’m offering to marry you, to take over the plantation and spare James from coming home to a place that has decayed in his absence.”

Caroline’s head pounded. She studied the rich velvet of the settee as she grappled with her feelings. She should marry Jed. She owed it to Magnolia Manor and all that Pa had worked to build. Yet, the rebel in her nature balked at marrying a man she was not truly sure she could learn to love, a man who even frightened her at times. Still, if she turned him down flat, whom would she marry if times got hard?

Stalling for time, she forced a smile. “I will consider your offer, Jed. It is kind of you to concern yourself with our needs. Still, I’d like to wait a little longer. The war can’t last forever, and it would mean so much to me to have James’s blessing on our union.”

“You’re only making things harder on yourself, Caroline. You’re not suited for managing a plantation, and you’ll blame yourself when you lose everything and come to me desperate and penniless.”

The words frightened her. She stared into his eyes, looking for comfort and finding only stern disapproval. The pride born of her English ancestry lit a spark of temper. Circumstances were not so desperate that she would let fear goad her into marriage, not yet, at least.

She rose abruptly. “Thank you for calling. I really must go up and tuck in Andrew as I promised.”

“Then I will take my leave and come calling again. Next week, perhaps?”

Caroline nodded curtly. She shivered, unable to convince herself that she enjoyed his attention as he lifted her hand and deposited a kiss. When he had disappeared into the night, Caroline stared at the closed door, unable to make the logic of this marriage submit to her reluctance.

She sighed as she picked up the lamp and started up the stairs. She tiptoed into Andrew’s room. She was relieved to find him sleeping. He breathed evenly, his smooth, childish cheeks moving softly with each breath. She was glad she’d escaped hearing his prayers, something they still did out of habit. When she and James were small, her parents had come in every night to hear her prayers.

After Ma died, Pa raised Andrew in the habit of nightly prayers. It had been months since Caroline had bothered to pray. After all, it was God who had taken Pa and allowed James to go to war. One by one, she was losing the people closest to her and perhaps, her home as well. Appealing to God had seemed about as helpful as whispering to the wind. If God chose to heap problems on her and not lift a finger to ease her distress, she wouldn’t give Him the pleasure of hearing her pray. She could look to no one but herself for decisions that would affect her future.

She stood at her bedroom window and watched the full moon slip between the clouds in an overcast sky. She breathed the comforting scent of the damp earth of her home, shivering in the chilly air as she began to unhook the tiny buttons that closed the back of her dress.

She blinked, staring hard as a dark form moved from the barn toward the pump at the old well. She held her breath as she tried to make out what had collapsed near the well and was now lying still. As the moon made a brief appearance through the layer of clouds, Caroline could see the prostrate figure of a man.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER TWO

Caroline clutched her shawl about her shoulders as she gathered her courage and forced her leaden feet down the stairs. She reached the front door and paused, longing to go back to her room and bury herself beneath her covers. All that propelled her forward was the knowledge that, with Gran getting older, the responsibility of the household’s safety fell squarely upon her shoulders. Besides, she could never fall asleep knowing that a man lay in her yard.

She compelled her shaking fingers to twist the doorknob. The humid night air enveloped her, urging her forward to whatever waited. If Pa was alive or James was home, she would not be out here, shivering in the night. But they were not. So, for the first time, she wished she had married Jed. Then she could have stayed safely inside while he dealt with unexpected events.

She stiffened her spine, annoyed by her cowardice, and reminded herself that the war had robbed many women of the protection of their men. Yet, in spite of her resolve, the cacophony of crickets was hardly noticeable above the sound of her ragged breathing. Nonetheless, she moved ahead, driven by the necessity to discover whether the motionless figure was dead.

She could see him better now. He lay on his side, knees drawn, and hands pressed to his ribs. He moaned softly and Caroline drew a sharp breath at the sight of his blue uniform. How had a wounded Yankee soldier found his way to her yard?

She crouched beside him, debating what to do. If he died, she and Gran could simply bury him and hope the Yankees didn’t discover the grave and shoot them for murder. But if his wounds were not fatal, she could hardly leave him lying in the yard. The Yankees might find him and accuse her of the shooting.

Swiftly, she turned back for the house, her feet flying over the damp grass. She dashed into Gran’s bedchamber on the first floor. Her entrance startled the sleeping woman, who sat up and grasped about the nightstand for her spectacles.

Clutching the bed post, Caroline gasped, “Bundle up. You have to help me.”

Gran stared at Caroline as though she were a ghost. “Caroline, what are you doing up this time of night?”

“A Yankee soldier is lying wounded in our yard. I don’t know how bad he’s hurt.”

“A Yankee?” Gran lurched out of bed and felt for her slippers. She pulled a wrap about her shoulders and followed Caroline through the dark house and into the night.

****

Nate swallowed hard against the pain that threatened to consume him. His side felt like a burning poker had lodged beneath his flesh. Yet, in the midst of his agony, he’d roused from his semi-conscious stupor and seen a woman, an angel perhaps. But she’d gone now, leaving him miserably alone when he’d wanted desperately to ask for a drink. It was only his discomfort that convinced him that she’d not been an angel.

He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. Too bad he’d not reached the spigot before his strength failed, and he’d blacked out.

He rolled his head back and studied the massive manor that rose before him, white pillars gleaming in the moonlight. A sweeping veranda graced the front entrance, approachable by a wide carriage drive. It would be a comfortable house, he thought, warmed by the ample fireplaces indicated by the abundance of chimneys that sat above the slope of the roof, looking like watchtowers on a castle.

Where had the woman gone? And why had she come out alone? Hushed voices sounded from the porch, and Nate saw two darkened forms hurry down the steps. Whoever they were, one thing was certain. He was completely at their mercy.

****

Caroline’s heart pounded as she pointed out the wounded soldier to Gran. “What are we going to do with him?”

“We are going to help him, just like the Good Book says we’re to do. For all you know, your brother James might be needing nursing by some Yankee woman.”

Caroline clutched Gran’s arm. “Are you sure? What if the Yankees come looking for him and say we shot him? They could burn the plantation, or worse yet, us.”

Gran shook her head. “That’s in the good Lord’s hands.”

Caroline bit her lip as they knelt beside the injured man.

Gran put her hand on his chest. “I can feel him breathing; he’s still alive.”

He stirred and whispered hoarsely, “Please, can I have a drink?”

“We’d better get you inside first,” Caroline replied. “Do you think you can walk if we help you?”

In answer, he strained to sit up. With a gasp, he struggled and let the women help him to his feet. He leaned on them heavily as they trudged slowly toward the door. In spite of his lean build, he was muscular, and Caroline struggled under her share of the weight. And though he was slumped, she knew he must beat her by several inches of height.

The arm draped over her shoulder grew heavier, and she knew his endurance was flagging. When they reached the porch, his ragged breathing told her that it was sheer determination keeping this soldier on his feet. She wondered bitterly if the same determination would help return him to the union army to kill more confederate soldiers.

She grimaced as they reached the front door. Her muscles ached under her burden. She paused and panted to Gran, “We’d better put him in your room. We’ll never get him upstairs. You can move into James’s room.”

“I expect you’re right.”

Moving slowly, they navigated through the dark house and into Gran’s bedchamber. Caroline sighed with relief as they transferred his weight from their tired shoulders onto the waiting bed.

He sprawled onto the feather mattress. Caroline didn’t doubt that his blood soaked coat would stain the linen beyond repair. And there was no telling when they’d have the funds to buy more fine linen to sew new sheets.

Gran lit the lamp. Flickering shadows danced across the walls. Gran’s round face puckered with dismay as she stared at the dark stain that soiled the soldier’s jacket. She clucked softly. “Fetch him a drink while I start to tend his wound.”

Caroline hurried to the kitchen in quest of the water in the rose-painted ceramic pitcher. Moonlight spilled through the window, allowing ample light for her task. Yet her hand quivered so violently the water cascaded down the sides of the glass. When she’d filled the glass, she grasped it tightly and started back. She was glad the noise and activity had not wakened Andrew.

Her feet froze at the doorway of Gran’s bedchamber. Her heart hammered as she watched Gran gently cleaning the soldier’s wound. She’d suspected he was lean and well-muscled. Now that Gran had peeled back his shirt, her suspicion was confirmed. She felt her cheeks grow warm as his eyes opened to see her staring. His face, pale from loss of blood, contrasted with his ebony hair. His eyes, a startling blue, beseeched her for the drink.

Coming to herself, she hurried forward to lift the glass to his dry lips. She held his head as he drank deeply from the glass. Her fingers tingled where they nestled against his thick dark hair. When he was sated, she helped him lie back against the feather pillow. He seemed to drift from consciousness as he closed his eyes.

She crossed to where Gran still labored. “How bad is he hurt?”

Gran clucked softly. “I guess the good Lord was looking out for him. The bullet passed through his shoulder. If he can stand the loss of blood, in time, he’ll heal.”

Gran squeezed the cloth into water that had grown pink with blood. She nodded to the soldier’s jacket. “Thought you might be interested in what I found in his pocket.”

On the night table, Caroline spotted a worn copy of the Bible. So the stranger was a believer, or at least he carried a Bible. Caroline felt a tug of curiosity that she tried to suppress. It wasn’t seemly that she wanted to know more about this man. He was a Yankee soldier, an enemy. It would be disloyal to find him either interesting or attractive.

Gran straightened from her nursing. “I better get some fresh water to finish this cleaning. You can go on up to bed if you’re tired.”

Caroline sank into a chair. “I’ll stay until you get back in case he wakes up.”

Gran nodded as she shuffled out to refill the basin.

Caroline studied the soldier, who stirred without waking, seeming to sense her scrutiny. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, perhaps three or four years older than she. He wore a dark, neatly trimmed beard that framed his chin and strong jaw.

Gran bustled back into the room. “Now Caroline, you get back to bed. I’ll sit with our patient tonight.”

Caroline shivered violently, suddenly aware that the house was chilly.

“No, Gran, I’ll stay with him tonight. It’s cold, and you won’t sleep well. Then you’ll ache something terrible in the morning.”

Gran smiled. “I’ll grab a quilt, and I’ll be fine. The older I get, the less I sleep at night. I can sleep tomorrow while you sit with him.”

Caroline hated for Gran to take the night shift. Yet, Caroline wanted to be alert the next day in case he awoke. It wouldn’t do to be asleep with a Yankee in the house, even a wounded one.

Finally, she told Gran, “Promise to wake me at first light so you can get some sleep.”

Gran stooped over the basin, her kind face full of concern for the stranger. “I’ll try to get some sleep. I’ll rest right here in the chair.”

Caroline hesitated again and Gran waved her up to bed.

When she reached her bedchamber, it seemed oddly quiet after the drama that had just occupied their energies. She slipped under the down coverlet and tried to forget the enemy soldier they harbored in the room directly beneath her. But, forgetting wasn’t easy as he was by far the most handsome man she had ever seen.

The night passed at last and Caroline woke from fitful sleep to the first rays of winter light filtering weakly through the windows. She dressed in haste and hurried down to hear Gran snoring from the overstuffed chair beside the bed. She tiptoed into the room and stood beside the soldier.

His eyelids flickered. His face had been pale the night before. Now it was flushed with fever. As though sensing her presence, he opened his eyes and fixed her with a pain-filled gaze.

Through cracked lips, he whispered, “When I first saw your pretty face, I knew you were an angel of mercy.”

Caroline swallowed hard, unprepared for the unwelcome sympathy that flooded her at the trust she saw in his eyes. Did he think she had wanted to help him? It had been her last thought. Yet, he’d left her little choice.

She turned away. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Gran stirred in the chair. “Is he awake?”

Caroline nodded. She fetched the drink and lifted it to his mouth while Gran inspected the wound. “It’s not bleeding anymore. That’s a good sign.”

She patted his arm. “You’re going to need lots of warm soup in order to replace the blood you lost. I’ll get some started.”

Andrew’s voice rang from the kitchen. “Caroline? Gran? Where is everybody?”

As Gran headed for the kitchen, Caroline turned to follow. The soldier grasped her wrist with a strength that surprised her. “Please don’t leave. Stay and tell me where I am and who you are.”

Gran glanced back.

“Stay with him. I’ll get breakfast for Andrew.”

Caroline knew how a mouse felt in a trap. She felt as though his intensely blue eyes could see right through her, to the depth of her soul. She wanted to run. Yet she wouldn’t scurry away and let him see how uncomfortable he made her. So, instead, she said a bit too harshly, “Perhaps we should start with you telling me who you are.”

He nodded. “Lieutenant Nate Sikes. I was ambushed in the woods. My men were killed.”

“I’m Caroline Ashcroft. You’re in my home. I found you in the yard last night.”

He squeezed her arm gently. “You’re very kind to take me in. You’ve got such gentle eyes, like a deer, and the longest dark lashes. Your hair matches your eyes. I knew I’d be in good hands last night when I saw you appear, like a vision, with curls falling over your shoulders. Just like they are now.”

Caroline felt a flush creep into her cheeks. She had not thought to put up her hair before she’d come down. Fortunately, his stamina was short lived. A few moments later, his grip weakened and he drifted off to sleep. Caroline quickly withdrew her hand.

She turned to see Andrew staring wide-eyed from the doorway.

“How did he get here?”

She put a finger to her lips and led the young boy back to the kitchen.

“Gran and I found him wounded in the yard last night. There must have been an ambush. He survived and made his way here.”

“But I saw his blue coat. He’s a Yankee.”

“I know. But he’s injured. We couldn’t just leave him in the yard.”

“He can’t stay here,” Andrew insisted.

Caroline studied her brother. “I don’t like having a Yankee soldier in the house any better than you do. But he’ll have to stay until he’s better.”

They reached the kitchen where Gran had bowls of steaming oatmeal ready at the table. After the perfunctory prayer, Andrew said, “Promise me you won’t tell Jed that the Yankee is here.”

Caroline frowned. “Well of course I’ll tell Jed. This man is a prisoner of war. We can’t have him going back and killing our own men.”

Andrew stood from his chair so abruptly that he nearly knocked it over. “You can’t tell him, Caroline, you can’t.”

She gazed at her brother in shock. “Andrew, whatever is the matter with you?”

He shook his head. Tears filled his eyes. “Don’t you tell, you hear? I don’t care if he is the enemy. It would be wrong to tell.”

With that, he fled from the kitchen and out the back door.

Caroline stared at Gran. Her face held a puzzlement that Caroline knew matched her own.

“What’s gotten into him? I thought he hated the Yankees,” Caroline murmured.

Gran shook her head. “I don’t know what’s eating the boy. This war makes folks mighty confused.”

She hefted herself from the chair. “I better get that soup on. That young man’s going to need all the nourishment he can get.”

****

Nate opened his eyes and heard the women working in the kitchen. Their voices held a pleasant sing-song sound. He could distinguish the one who had given him a drink and let him hold her soft hand. She was pretty, a southern belle, no doubt. It must be hard for her with her beaux gone off to war. He smiled to himself, feeling blessed to have been found by these kind women. If he had to be injured, he’d rather recover here than in a field hospital, surrounded by the terrible, distressed cries of dying men.

He let his thoughts drift to the future. When this war was over, he’d go home and earn enough money to buy himself some land—good grassland where he could run cattle. He’d discarded the idea of being a farmer a long time ago. He wanted more than the honest, yet dirt poor, existence his parents had been able to scratch out of the ground for his eight brothers and sisters.

No. He’d have a nice little ranch. He didn’t mind hard work. He’d build up a strong herd, and with his profit, he’d construct a house roomy enough to raise a family. He’d find the right wife, a helpmate and confidant, someone who would be his best friend. And in this new life, he’d forget the horrors of war and find peace.

He thought of the pretty girl who had come to his aid. What was her name? He smiled as he remembered. It was Caroline. And it was a nice name. It suited her. Caroline, with her heart-shaped face and high elegant cheekbones. Her dark eyes were wary, yet gentle, and her stern bluster that didn’t fool him for a moment.

He shifted his weight from his injured shoulder and grimaced before continuing his musings. What would it be like to have a fine wife? A well-bred woman like Caroline would never fall for a poor man like himself. Nonetheless, he longed to look at her, to hear her voice. He listened to her movements in the kitchen until fever again claimed him in sleep.

****

A short while later Gran and Caroline were back in the room. Gran felt his forehead and clucked softly. “He’s not out of the woods yet. We could still lose him.”

Caroline was surprised by how much Gran’s matter-of-fact observation disturbed her. He had a name now. Nate. He’d been polite and grateful, and she liked the admiring way he looked at her with his startling blue eyes. He might be the enemy, but she didn’t want him to die.

She passed the next two hours sponging his face and wrists. Just before lunch, the skies darkened before opening with a drenching rain. Drops rolled down the windows in streams large enough to be rivers in a Lilliputian country.

Caroline glanced out the window to see Andrew scurrying across the muddy field. Her scowl deepened as she rushed to the portico to hurry him inside. She hated to scold him, yet what choice did he leave her?

He reached the door to find her waiting. “You’re soaked and will probably catch cold. Where have you been all morning?”

He set his chin in a stubborn thrust that reminded her of James. “I was walking in the field.”

His evasive manner worried her. She would bet her mother’s pearls that he was hiding something from her, something that disturbed him deeply. Yet, what could he have done?

She sighed. He needed a man around, someone who could manage him and whom he could follow and look up to. An image of Jed rose in her mind. Would he be better than no man at all? For the thousandth time she wished James would come home.

Gran called from the kitchen. “Lunch is ready.”

Caroline bit her lip, still upset by Andrew’s rebellious attitude. She had too many worries on her mind to have him go and add to their troubles.

She sighed and said, “It was irresponsible of you to go out when there were chores and your school work to be done. Get into dry clothes. After lunch, I want you to spend the afternoon on your school work.”

Andrew padded past her. His shoes made damp impressions on the thick chartreuse rug. She opened her mouth to chastise him, and then bit back the words. He was just a child, a child who was struggling to understand the repercussions of war. And the rug would need cleaning in the spring.

She helped Gran dish up the soup. The old woman said, “Let’s try to give Mr. Sikes a few more spoonfuls of broth. Even if he can’t eat much, it will do him some good.”

She cast an appraising look at Caroline and added, “Mr. Sikes is quite a good-looking man. It’d be a shame if he wasted away.”

Caroline lowered her eyes. She could not honestly tell Gran that she hadn’t noticed. Yet, she didn’t want to admit she felt any attraction. She stirred her soup and said, “I’ll try and get him to eat.”

Gran’s eyes glinted with unconcealed amusement as she smiled at Caroline. “Yes, I suppose he might take better to your nursing than mine.”

Andrew plunked down noisily in his chair. Caroline was glad for the distraction as he slid up to the table. They bowed for the blessing and Caroline repeated the dinner prayer Pa had always said.

She felt a twinge of hypocrisy. She prayed only because it was a comforting habit to hear Pa’s words. And she knew it would pain Gran if she stopped. Yet, how could she truly thank God when He’d endangered all the things she’d counted on to give her position and comfort in life? He’d taken away her loved ones and left her in charge of the plantation. And being in charge was what forced her to maintain the charade. It was important for Andrew to grow up with a semblance of piousness. Like good manners, it would serve him well in life.

After lunch, Caroline dished up a bowl of the thin soup in hopes of tempting the Lieutenant’s appetite.

Andrew watched with troubled eyes. “How much longer will he be here?”

Caroline glanced up quickly. “As long as it takes to get him well. I know you’re worried we’ll be in trouble for taking him in. But we can’t turn an injured man out in the cold.”

“Somebody might shoot him if they find out he’s here.”

Caroline sighed. “Nobody’s going to shoot him. Now you go up and do your schoolwork like I told you to do.”

Andrew grudgingly obliged, trudging toward the stairs as though she’d condemned him to the gallows. Caroline wished they could afford a tutor, someone who would push him in his studies and keep him on track. Seeing that that was impossible, she’d have to continue to do her best to oversee his work.

She carried the steaming broth down the hall, her heart beating a little quicker with the anticipation of feeding Nate.

She found him still feverish. Worried, she wiped his brow and coaxed him to let her raise his head. “Just a few spoonfuls, and then I’ll let you rest.”

He complied as best he could. Yet he managed only a few swallows before falling back into an unnatural sleep.

Caroline carried the bowl back to the kitchen. Her heart felt heavy. “Perhaps he should have a doctor.”

Gran shook her head. “We can’t afford a doctor. Besides all the doctors are busy taking care of the soldiers.”

Caroline knew she was right. With the war raging, it would be nearly impossible to obtain a doctor. Whatever was done for Nate would have to be done themselves. She would spend whatever time she could spare between chores trying to nurse him back to health. If she did all she could, she’d not feel guilty. If he didn’t live, it wouldn’t be due to her lack of care. Yet, the thought of his death filled her with pain.

She knew the next week would either see him over the infection or leave them to dig a grave. And she was right. Over the next week, his fever rose and broke, alternately filling her with encouragement, and then disappointment. On the eighth day, she tiptoed in before breakfast to find him awake. His eyes were clear. The fever that had clouded them had departed.

He smiled as she stopped in the doorway. “So you weren’t just a dream.”

Caroline’s heart fluttered to her throat. “No. I’m quite real. And so was the danger from that wound. Are you feeling better?”

Nate nodded. “Just awfully weak. And it feels like a horse kicked me in the shoulder.”

Caroline smiled. “I expect your shoulder will be sore for quite some time, though you were lucky the bullet missed your lungs.”

She felt an awkward silence as they stared at each other.

She brushed a stray tendril of hair self-consciously off her face. “Could you eat some breakfast?”

“You bet.” He grimaced as he tried to sit up.

Caroline flew to his side. “Stay still. I’ll bring you a tray.”

As she eased him back on the pillow, he caught her hand. “Tell me I didn’t make a fool of myself by saying all kinds of crazy things while I was out of my head.”

She ducked her head to hide the disappointment she knew must show on her face. In spite of the embarrassment it might have caused him, she wished he had spilled out all of his secrets, all of his hopes and dreams. She would have welcomed the opportunity to assuage her curiosity, to learn all about him. Yet, he’d not said a word about himself. The only things he’d said had been words that stoked her vanity. And perhaps these were only the ravings of a delirious man.

“You have no cause for embarrassment,” she assured him.

He released her hand, leaving the lingering warmth from his touch.

“I’ll get breakfast.” She hurried away to escape the confused feelings stirring in her heart. Why should she care if he meant what he said about her being attractive? He had called her an angel of mercy. She certainly had not felt like an angel. She had only been doing her duty by him, as Gran had said they must.

She’d told herself all along that she’d turn him over to the law as soon as she got the chance. Now she wasn’t so sure. He wouldn’t get the care he needed in a jail cell.

The fact that she cared made her realize that she didn’t possess the detachment she’d professed. Still, what would it hurt to wait until they were sure he would heal? Wasn’t that the humane thing to do?

She spent the afternoon feeling at peace from her decision. It was as though a weight had been lifted off her now that she knew her plan. And as it turned out, that very night, she was glad she’d given the matter thought, since her opportunity to have Nate arrested came sooner than she’d expected.

As Gran cleared the dishes from the table, Andrew burst in from sweeping up the veranda.

“Jed’s coming. Promise you won’t say anything about the soldier, please.”

Panic lurched her heart at the thought that Jed might drag Nate off to jail. And she doubted he’d be gentle about it. She comforted herself with the fact that it was unlikely he could have heard about Nate. Nonetheless, she retained her authority with Andrew by replying, “I’ll do as I think best.”

“Caroline.” His voice held desperation.

She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Andrew, please. Go upstairs and finish your schoolwork.”

Just then, Jed’s knock sounded at the door.

Caroline froze with the ridiculous fear that her face would give away the secret, that Jed would take one look at her and demand she surrender the captive. She glanced at Andrew. He’d paused, biting his lip as he sat halfway up the stairs.

Caroline put her hand on the knob, struggling with her guilty conscience about harboring a Yankee soldier; yet knowing nothing on earth would entice her to turn him in. Hoping for the best, she composed her expression and opened the door.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER THREE

A draft of chill wind accompanied Jed’s entrance. Caroline thought that it seemed appropriate for the cold man he’d become. Her heart ached with the thought that he had not always been so. Once he’d been light-hearted. Once he’d joked and laughed. She hoped that somewhere there still lurked the boy who had skipped rocks and climbed trees. Perhaps, in time he’d regain a semblance of his former self. She’d heard that war did things to people, changed them. She could see it very plainly in the man who stood in her entryway.

She shivered as she led him into the parlor, as much from the cold as from the fear that the war would change James also and send him back old and bitter, as it had Jed. But she must not think of that right now. Her role as a hostess demanded her attention. So, she settled onto the settee and smoothed down her skirts.

Jed took a seat beside her. His possessive gaze made her stomach tense. She swallowed hard and tried to think of a topic of conversation that would not lead into a discussion of their future.

She played with the fold of her skirt. “It’s cold tonight. There must already be frost on the ground.”

His cold fingers moved to cover her hand, stilling its nervous movement.

She bit her lip and fought the urge to withdraw her hand.

“A little lady like you should have someone to warm her on cold nights. I hate to think of you upstairs in a drafty room, all alone.”

Caroline’s heart sank. There would be no putting off the familiar topic which he pursued with greater fervor each time they were together. If only he would give her some time, she might welcome his visits instead of dreading each new encounter. As he pressed her ever harder, she began to feel like a bird poised for flight.

She tugged gently on her hand, only to have him clasp it more tightly. The entrapment spurred a sudden sense of vulnerability that made her heart hammer. Such tenacity from Jed was a new experience for Caroline, for he’d always behaved as a gentleman at their dance parties and dinners. There, they were surrounded by genteel companions and chaperons to object to the slightest breach of protocol. That world was gone now. The war had seen to that, just as it had loosed a boldness in him that sometimes frightened her.

She cast about for a way to prompt her release. Perhaps a reference to the war would cool his ardor.

“It hardly seems right to worry about small discomforts like a chilly room when men are suffering and dying in the cold with hardly a warm blanket to cover them.”

Jed stiffened, withdrawing his hand. “I was one of those men. I have the scar to prove it.”

“Of course. I was talking about my own comfort. You’ve done a great deal for the cause.”

She felt a sting of conscience. He bore a lifelong scar while she fed and warmed a Yankee soldier, doing all in her power to heal him. With the war going badly for the Confederacy, she knew Jed would think such charity disloyal.

She frowned, puckering her brow. Jed was not her husband, nor were he and she even engaged. She had every right to do as she thought best in her own house. And she was far from disloyal. She’d spent as much time as anyone knitting gloves for the troops.

Someday, he might find out. And if they had married, he might never forgive her for her deception. Perhaps, he’d brand her a traitor. If there was any chance she would ever accept his proposal, now was the time to come clean.

Even as she stewed about burning her bridges, she knew she’d not change her mind. No. She’d already made peace with her Confederate conscience. She would keep Nate’s presence a secret until he grew stronger. If Jed thought badly of her in the future, she would find comfort in Gran’s belief that they were obeying the higher calling of a Christian duty.

Jed broke the silence.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

Caroline’s heart nearly stopped. Had he read her mind? How could he know about Nate’s presence?

“Tell you?” Her mouth felt dry.

“When I was here before, I asked if you’d consider marriage. Have you given it more thought or are you still determined to seek James’s blessing?”

The intensity of her relief forced her to acknowledge how deep her desire to protect Nate had become. She swallowed hard, waiting for her pulse to calm.

“I’ve not changed my mind.”

“He wouldn’t want you to suffer hardship, you know.”

“I know. And we won’t. There’s food in the cellar to see us through until summer harvest.”

She bit her lip, admitting to herself they would be lucky if the carefully preserved foods lasted, especially now, with one more mouth to feed.

“I see.” Jed’s words hung heavy in the air.

Caroline’s rational streak told her to be careful not to reject help that she might truly need. Yet, her independent nature resisted his attempt to pressure her into marriage. Perhaps, in time, she would come to love him. Right now, she was not desperate enough to marry a man she did not love. Softening, she lightly touched his hand.

“I do appreciate your concern. I just need more time.”

Jed took the opportunity to reclaim her hand. He stroked it gently and said, “Then you shall have the time that you need.”

His tenderness reminded her of a gentler world, a world that had vanished like blue sky in a storm. Tears glistened on her lashes.

Jed raised his lean fingers and carefully brushed them away. “I only want you to be happy and cared for.”

She smiled. “And I want you to be happy, too, for we have always been friends.”

He nodded. “I’ve got to get along. I’m riding out with my men to see if any of our folk have been burned out by Yankees.”

Caroline shivered. “What would she do if the Yankees set her house ablaze? She would have no place to go. Then she would be forced to turn to Jed. Jed and his bullet-crippled father lived with a spinster aunt in a fine old house in town. Jed’s family had provided the lawmen for the county for as long as anyone could remember.

Caroline rose to walk Jed to the door. “I heard the Yankees took the bridge. I hope they won’t come here.”

Jed’s polished boots clicked across the entry.

“My men and I will do whatever it takes to make sure they don’t push forward where they don’t belong.”

The savage light that glowed in his eyes made her shiver. There could be no doubt how Jed felt about the cause, or about Yankees, well or wounded.

Intense relief filled her as she closed the door behind him. Fatigue threatened to claim her as she laid her forehead against the cold smooth wood of the door facing. Gran and Andrew had gone to bed. She should go to bed also. Her quilts and coverlet would warm with the heat of her body and chase away the shivers that shook her limbs.

Yet drawn by an unnamed need, she decided to see if Nate was sleeping comfortably. She was surprised to see him wide awake, his face turned expectantly toward her.

“You’ve had company. A suitor, perhaps?”

Caroline bit her lip. Each time she looked into his eyes, the trust she saw drained away more of the hatred she wanted to feel toward him, casting her helplessly adrift in their blue depths. Consequently, she found herself unwilling to admit to having a suitor.

“He’s more like an old friend.”

Nate cocked his brow. “Old?”

“He’s the same age as my brother, James. We’ve known each other for years. He was wounded in the war, so he’s back working as the county sheriff.”

Nate reached a hand toward her. “Please sit down. Keep me company, just for a little while.”

Caroline hesitated. Her mind warned her not to pay him more attention than his wound demanded. Yet, his plea tugged at her heart. If she were alone in an enemy state, wouldn’t she long for the company of a kind stranger? She perched on the edge of a chair near the bed.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head. “You’ve been more than hospitable. And you didn’t tell your visitor about me.”

Caroline shook her head. “No.”

“Why?”

She licked her lips, and Nate’s heart lurched at the simple gesture. She reminded him of a delicate orchid blooming in the midst of battle.

She took a deep breath. “Like I told you, Jed’s the sheriff. I was afraid he’d insist on taking you to the jail. I don’t think you’re well enough.”

Nate blinked in surprise. “The jail? He doesn’t have that authority. Besides, this whole area will be under marshal law in a matter of days.”

Caroline’s dark eyes widened. “We’ll be overrun by Yankee soldiers? What’s to happen to us?”

She studied him with wary eyes, and he longed to assure her she’d never have to suffer another hardship or loss. Yet he could not. He knew this war would make changes in her world that no magician could restore. Could she accept them without hating those who caused them?

“Nothing will happen. These are military men, not barbarians.”

He smiled to reassure her. “They’ll be in your debt for taking in a wounded officer.”

“I’m not sure my neighbors will be too forgiving of that.”

His heart ached. He hated the idea of this gentle flower at the mercy of malicious, fiery tongues. He had a wild desire to whisk her far away to save her from what the neighbors might say or do. They could run away to the west where no one would care about their past.

He pushed aside the preposterous notion. She would think he’d gone mad to suggest such a thing. She barely knew him. And he barely knew her.

He studied the tilt of her chin and the ebony hair that offset the high cheekbones in her delicate face. Though he sensed she possessed a strong will, he found himself drawn to her gentleness.

She’d seen her world torn to pieces and done her best to survive it without becoming callous. She’d taken him in and even hid his presence from the county lawman. She was indeed a woman he could respect. And admire.

His thoughts were broken as she settled more comfortably in the chair. “As it seems you’ll be recovering here for awhile, perhaps you’ll tell me about your upbringing. I’ve never been to the north.”

Nate let his mind drift to pictures of his childhood, to the cabin in West Virginia under the shadow of the Shenandoah Mountains. Their land was poor, and his parents had worked hard to feed nine children. Caroline listened while he recounted their struggles and their simple joys.

“Dirt poor, but Daddy always said there wasn’t nothing we needed that the good Lord wouldn’t provide. We were hungry at times, but we never starved.”

Caroline pressed her lips together and looked away from his face. “It sounds like God took pretty stingy care of your family. Perhaps now He’s turned his back on the south as well.”

“He never turned His back on us. My family is alive and well except for one brother I lost in the war. You have a brother at war, don’t you?”

She nodded, proceeding to tell him about her fear that James would not return.

“You must be very close,” Nate observed.

She smiled. “When we were little we fought like cats and dogs, but we’d never let anyone else say an unkind word about the other.”

She paused. “I worry about my little brother, Andrew. It’s been hard for him, losing Pa and having James away at war.”

“Yep. He’s likely hurting. Maybe I could help. I like kids. I helped raise half a dozen younger ones back home. Send him in to visit with me.”

Caroline nodded.

They exchanged a few more stories, and the clock struck midnight.

“My, I had no idea it was so late. We’d both best get some sleep,” Caroline said. She picked up the lamp she’d deposited on the table beside his bed.

“It was a pleasure talking to you,” Nate said softly, sorry she was leaving so soon.

She looked down at him, and their eyes met in a soul bonding gaze. His pulse quickened, and for a moment he thought he saw that attraction mirrored in her face. But just as quickly, she looked away.

“Goodnight, Nate.”

She disappeared into the dim hallway like a vanishing spirit. Nate watched her go and murmured, “Sleep well, my angel.”

He awoke in the night in a cold sweat, gripped by the madness of a nightmare. He reached for his pistol. He was in the woods again, heart pounding while he waited for the assailants to find him and finish him off. He had to find his pistol, yet it was not at his hip. He panicked until he awoke enough to realize he’d been dreaming. He wondered if, every night, his mind would replay the horror of watching Nelson and Parker go down. He tried to remember any details that might help him identify the murderers. Yet nothing of use came to mind.

Exhausted, he fell back asleep and did not wake again until the angle of pale winter sunlight spilling through the curtains told him it was well past eight o’clock. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching him, waiting for him to open his eyes. He credited the feeling to his dream and concentrated on stretching his shoulder, testing the pain.

He grimaced as he flexed his bicep, discouraged by the fact that it was going to take some time to regain the strength in his arm. But he would regain the strength. He’d need it to run cattle and build the house that lightened his heart when his thoughts grew heavy.

Caroline appeared in the doorway, looking fresh in spite of the late hour he knew she’d retired.

“I thought it best to let you sleep.”

“With such kind nursing, I’ll become lazy and pretend to be injured long after I heal,” Nate teased.

She smiled. “I’ll bring you in a tray if you’re hungry.”

Nate nodded. His stomach was wide awake this morning.

“I seem to be regaining my appetite. I’ll pay you back for your expenses on my account.”

Caroline’s pale cheeks flushed. “We’re not destitute yet, Mr. Sikes. We still have a few staples left in the cellar.”

“Of course, but you didn’t count on another mouth to feed. At least grant me the pride to pay my own way.”

Caroline bit her lip. “I understand. I’m sorry I bit at you so.”

As she slipped from the room, Nate determined that he’d do more than pay back what he used. He’d break his back to see that this woman had crops planted and provisions to last until harvest.

As Caroline left, the older woman—Gran—arrived with a tray. “It looks like you’re feeling better this morning.”

“Thanks to two gracious and kind ladies.”

He inched himself into a sitting position, allowing Gran to set the tray across his lap.

His eyes widened as he surveyed the breakfast. Delighted, he said, “If the other men knew about this, they’d all be gettin’ injured, so they could recover here, eating your cooking.”

Gran beamed, obviously pleased at the compliment.

Nate picked up his fork and bowed his head in prayer. When he looked up, he said to Gran, “The Lord has been good to me; I don’t think there are enough words to thank Him.”

“I feel the same way,” she said.

She motioned to his Bible on the nightstand. When I found that in your pocket, I thought you might be a believer.”

He speared a bite of egg. “I was convicted when I was twelve years old. A preacher came to our county. My parents were believers but they hadn’t explained the gospel like Reverend Culpepper did. I made a decision that night and, though I carry my share of weakness, Jesus has helped grow my faith ever since.”

Gran nodded. “I wish Caroline could learn to lean on the Lord. I want that more than anything I can think of. She committed her heart once, but she doesn’t seem to have much faith. And she’s been needing faith for what she’s carried on those little shoulders this year.”

Nate took a sip of coffee. He recognized the taste of ground yams and knew this family was going without many comforts it had always taken for granted.

“Miss Caroline’s a fine woman. I wouldn’t think the less of her for anything you might tell me,” he said.

“She thinks highly of you, too, for a Yankee.”

He laughed. “I’m complimented. You know, there are all kinds of Unionists, just like there are all kinds of Confederates.”

“Of course, there are good and bad folks no matter where they live. I’m hoping Caroline will see that you’re proof of that.”

Nate didn’t pause from the bit of biscuit he’d dipped in gravy.

Gran smiled and said, “I’ll be back to get the tray and clean that wound in a while.”

The salt pork, grits, and biscuits met his need to fill his stomach, yet when he was done, it couldn’t fill his aching desire for company. When he heard Caroline giving Andrew his morning chores, he realized how much he cherished the sound of her voice. He longed for her to come and sit with him. Yet, a woman struggling to run a house would be far too busy to spend the day with an invalid.

He wished he could help her. He was used to working hard all his life, splitting timber and farming his Daddy’s rocky land. Lying in bed had been a luxury at his house, and Nate had never been sick enough to earn it. So now, having the women wait on him while he lay around was beginning to seem like more than he could stand.

He slid the tray down his legs and edged them slowly off the bed. If he could just regain his strength, he could be of use here on the plantation before he rejoined the army.

He took a deep breath, and fought a wave of dizziness as he perched precariously on the bed. Though his shoulder throbbed, he forced himself to stay upright.

Just then, Gran came into the room to collect the tray. She clucked her tongue. “Why, Mr. Sikes. You’re in no shape to be getting out of bed. Where did you think you were going?”

He squeezed his eyes tightly against the nauseating rotation of the room. Through the roaring in his ears, Gran’s voice sounded faint and far away. He eased back, allowing her to help him settle against the pillow. Gradually, his head began to clear.

He glanced up to see her peering closely at his face. Her expression eased as he gave her a sheepish grin. “I thought some exercise might help me regain my strength.”

“Exercise is a good thing, but not when you hurt yourself worse trying to do it. You lost a lot of blood, Mr. Sikes.”

“More than I thought, I guess.” He sighed with frustration. “There must be something I can help with while I’m laid up in bed.”

Gran looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t mean to pry, but have you had schooling?”

“Oh, yes. I was the first in my family to graduate. I liked learning.”

Gran pursed her lips. “Well, there might be one thing you can help with. Caroline doesn’t have much time to help Andrew with his studies. Maybe Andrew could sit with you this afternoon, and you could help him.”

“I’d be honored if I could ease Miss Caroline’s burden in any way.”

Gran carried the tray to the door.

“I’ll talk to her about it,” she called over her shoulder, and then turned sharply around and said, “You won’t be having any more expeditions off the bed in search of more exercise, will you?”

Nate grinned again. “You have my word.”

****

Gran cast a sideways glance at Caroline as they prepared lunch. “Mr. Sikes is feeling restless and wants to do something useful. I suggested he help Andrew with his schoolwork.”

Caroline studied the glass bowl she was filling with yams and wondered if Gran noticed her changed attitude toward Nate. It was nice having him here. He was good company, and he did so want to help them. They could use someone’s help with the strange way Andrew had been behaving lately. He’d gone off again, somewhere in the fields. She suspected he’d be home when his stomach called him for lunch.

Caroline nodded. “I think that might just be the thing, for both of them.”

She was right about Andrew. He appeared at noon, his feet and hands covered with mud. Caroline scowled at his appearance as he paused at the well to wash in the icy water. “What have you been doing to get that dirty?”

He paused, fixing her with his dark eyes. “I’ve been turning over the fields. James left me in charge. The corn and cotton will need planting soon, and I got to see it gets done.”

Caroline’s heart softened at the image of her baby brother, trying to handle the old workhorse and plow by himself. Andrew had never had to work in the fields and would hardly know how it was done.

“That’s very responsible of you. How is it going?”

He sighed. “I don’t plow very straight and I’m kind of slow.”

He looked so small and tired that Caroline blinked back tears.

“Maybe James will come home soon to help you. Now you wash up and come in. Anyone who’s worked as hard as you have deserves a hot lunch.”

As they ate, Caroline told Andrew, “Mr. Sikes says he’d be happy to help you with your lessons this afternoon.”

Andrew set down his fork. His face paled.

“I’m not going anywhere near a Yankee.”

Gran shook her head. “You already did. I saw you peeking in his doorway this morning. It would be better manners to go on inside.”

Andrew’s napkin fell to the floor as he sprang to his feet. “I’m not going in there and neither of you can make me.”

Caroline felt her jaw drop. What in the world was wrong with this usually mild-mannered child? She stared at him, intending to chastise his rebellious outburst. But he’d already run out the door.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER FOUR

Caroline slipped quietly into Nate’s room to pick up the lunch tray. She nurtured a hope that he had fallen asleep before Andrew’s outburst. One look at his face dashed her hopes.

“Your brother feels strongly about having me in the house. I can hardly blame him. It’s hard for a young boy to wait at home when there’s a war. And to have an enemy soldier in his own house is twice as hard. I’m lucky he hasn’t turned me in to the Confederates.”

Caroline shook her head and answered honestly, “I’ve not been able to think of you as the enemy, just a wounded man who needs a place to rest. As for Andrew turning you in, he was the one who insisted we not do so.”

Nate frowned. “That’s strange.”

“It is. I haven’t known what to make of Andrew lately. I’m glad you weren’t offended.”

“Not in the slightest. If he’s anything like you, I’m sure he has his reasons for how he feels.”

She blushed. “He’s always been an easy child until lately. Now, it seems he has a temper after all.”

“And you, Caroline, do you have a temper?”

“Where things I love are concerned. I’d die before I’d see the Yankee army burn my home to the ground.”

“And I’d die before I’d let them, but if you’ll pardon my bluntness, no house is worth losing your life or your soul.” Caroline stiffened. Eyes locked, they appraised each other until Caroline looked away.

Scooping the tray off the bed, she said, “I appreciate your devotion to my interests.”

“It’s well deserved. You saved my life.” He studied her carefully. “Your way of life is ending. I never had money or such a fine house.” He gestured toward the carved cypress wainscot that bordered the walls. “But you can’t build your joy on such uncertain foundations.”

“What would you have me build it on?”

“On the Lord, Caroline. He’s the only surety in this unsure world.”

Caroline uttered a choked cry of derision. “Some surety. It’s been hard work that’s given us what security we’ve had. I don’t think God’s been too concerned about those of us left behind by the war.”

“Real security doesn’t depend on having your world go unchanged. It means trusting God to help you make blessings out of the changes.” She stared out the window at the gray clouds that hovered like avenging angels. “You sound like Gran. She’s always telling me to have faith. But what good is faith when life goes on just as hard whether you have faith or not?”

“But it doesn’t go on as hard when you cast your troubles on the Lord. It’s the only way to have peace.”

A thunderstorm of rebellion flickered in Caroline’s dark eyes. “Then I guess I was never destined to find peace. I can’t trust a God who sits by and allows wars and the horrible suffering they cause.”

Nate clenched his hands, frustrated that his weakened body prevented him from taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. He wanted to hold her and look into her eyes and force her to understand the truth. Instead, he said reasonably, “God doesn’t choose war. Men do.”

Caroline stepped gracefully to the doorway, her full skirt swishing to the rhythm of her steps. “Perhaps that’s true. If so, it doesn’t inspire confidence in God’s omnipotence, does it?” She was out the door without waiting for his reply.

Nate clenched his teeth, determined this would not be the end of their discussions. He’d never considered himself a holy man, yet he’d learned there was a peace to be found in trusting God, whether in times of plenty or times of deprivation. He longed to show Caroline she’d never find peace until she released all her concerns for the future into God’s hands. Still, he could tell by the fire in her dark eyes that Caroline Ashcroft was a strong-minded young woman.

****

As the week passed, Nate found he could raise himself to a sitting position without the wave of dizziness that had kept him prone. The pain in his shoulder had decreased to a dull throb thanks to Gran’s careful tending each morning and night. She’d stopped clucking her tongue and shaking her head each time she saw the wound. Careful cleansing had prevented infection. Nate knew now that, with patience, he’d make a full recovery.

Life settled into a pattern. When Caroline finished her evening chores, she would sit in the corner of his room to knit. The house grew quiet after Gran and Andrew went to bed. Nate knew Caroline must be tired, yet she stayed and talked, sometimes until late in the night. He cherished those times, looking forward to them more each day.

As they sat one evening, Caroline said, “I’ve never admitted it to anyone, but I like baking and gardening and using my hands for more than creating fine needlecraft. I know sewing is ladylike, but I don’t like to spend all my time reading and sewing and waiting for beaux to call.”

Nate raised his eyebrows in pretend surprise. “What, not a proper paper doll Southern belle?”

Caroline laughed. “I guess not. I miss the days before the war. Still, I was bored at times.”

Sympathy filled him. “You don’t have much time to be bored now, do you?”

She shook her head. “Pa liked to remind me how idle hands were the devil’s workshop. Yet, he never expected I’d have to keep them busy with washing and cleaning and kitchen work.” She paused in her knitting and inspected her work-reddened fingers.

“What sort of life do you hope to have after the war?” he asked gently.

She stared away. “I always imagined myself mistress of a plantation. But life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. All my training in deportment did little to help me the last two years. I’ve had to learn all the things about running a house that I never thought I’d need to know.”

“What do you see yourself doing with your life?” he persisted.

Caroline bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve never imagined anything except what I was brought up to expect.”

He reached toward her and touched the top of her hand. “Poor Caroline. I think you may find all the hardship is a blessing in disguise. You’ve learned you’re far stronger than you ever thought you could be. Many people never learn that lesson.”

Caroline tensed under his touch. He withdrew his hand, chastising himself for letting his heart rule his actions. Ever since he’d regained consciousness, he’d longed to caress her silky cheek and smooth the dark curls that nestled against her temples.

He was a soldier, used to discipline, and he must summon his discipline where Caroline was concerned. He would not take advantage of the kindness she’d shown by putting her in the awkward position of rejecting his attentions.

Caroline bit her lip, hoping Nate had not felt her pulse leap at his touch. Perhaps he thought charity inspired her to keep him company. Her cheeks grew warm with the denial of this high motive. In fact, she enjoyed the sound of his voice, his easy conversation and his way of expressing the truth. Sometimes she felt as though he could read her mind, probing into corners that housed her deepest insecurity.

She straightened her shoulders. “I hope you don’t expect me to believe all this hardship is a gift from God, and someday, I’ll be grateful.”

His gaze fixed on her, holding her as securely as though she were physically captive. “I hope, someday, you’ll see some good from all you’ve gone through. I’ve learned we can rejoice in hardship to the degree we trust the One who let it happen. He tells us in Jeremiah that He has a plan for each life, a plan to prosper us and not harm us, to bring us hope and a future.”

“So what of your future, Mr. Sikes? Will you go back to your farm and forget those of us whose futures were forever changed? Some of our men have no homes to return to.” She cringed at the shadow of pain that crossed his face at her accusing words, wishing she’d reigned in her bitterness.

Yet, he answered in an even voice. “I’ve no plans to return to the farm, except to tell my family good-bye. There are too many mouths to feed off that rocky ground as it is and plenty of brothers to give it a try when my daddy gets too old.”

Caroline tilted her head. “Where will you go?”

“I’ve got my mind set on going west. There’s land for the having out in Oregon, good land for farming. And the government gives it free for the settling.”

Her heart lurched at the image of Nate far away on a farm in Oregon. “How could you leave your family and everything you’ve ever known to go so far away?”

The openness faded from his eyes. “You were born on good land, with food on your table. I want a chance to work good black soil into a thriving farm, to have a home to be proud of.”

She supposed he had little to lose, yet she could not bear to think of leaving her home.

“I understand. Still, being so far away from all the memories of childhood must be hard. I was born in this house. James and I took our earliest lessons upstairs in our schoolroom. We played on the back porch.”

“You may have to put your memories behind you sometime and move on.”

Anger at the war and all that it stood for rose in her heart. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have any idea of the changes we’ve already had to endure, the things we’ve already given up. I don’t know why I’ve bothered trying to make you understand.”

“I didn’t start the war, Caroline.” His voice deepened with anger.

“I know it took politicians, not soldiers to start the war. But all of you together seem like locusts come to devour us like kernels of grain. You can leave when the war is over but we’ll be stuck here with constant reminders of our suffering.”

“Union soldiers live with reminders, too. I lost a brother. Some of us carry scars or other permanent disfigurement.” He touched his wounded shoulder.

Caroline sighed. “I know. Both sides suffered tragedy. But we’ve lost a way of life. I don’t suppose you can understand.”

“I understand perfectly. You miss your privileged life and don’t think anyone beneath you can possibly understand. It’s true. I did live in a hovel, compared to your fine house. And I never had servants. But my parents taught me it’s important to judge a person by what’s in his heart, not by what he owns.”

Caroline’s hands shook as she put the needles back into her knitting bag. “I’m not judging you. If you’re happy in your hovel, I couldn’t care less. But don’t reduce the rest of us to the same existence.”

She stood. “I’ve stayed too late. Good-night, Mr. Sikes.” She had not wanted to fight with Nate. Certainly, she’d not wanted to lower his opinion of her. But the damage was done. If he thought her shallow, perhaps he could get well soon and find more preferred company.

She fought back tears as she gathered her skirts and hurried out the door. Gran had left a lamp burning on the kitchen table. Caroline wiped the tears from her eyes, finding they only returned, blurring her vision as she ascended to the upstairs hallway. She paused at her parents’ doorway. Memories rose unbidden, crushing her heart with their weight.

She turned the handle and stepped inside. The polished mahogany furniture still gleamed under her careful tending. The massive four-poster bed that had been too high to climb onto when she was a child and the wardrobe and matching chiffonier greeted her like old friends. The rocking chair Pa had left in the corner of the room reminded her of Ma.

When she was a little girl, Ma had rocked her in that chair when she was frightened or sick. She was frightened now, frightened of all the changes in her life. And she longed desperately for her mother’s comfort. She set the lamp on the bedside table. Impulsively, she undressed to her chemise, shivering in the damp and chilly room. The soft white of the knobbed chenille bedspread beckoned her. It had been her mother’s pride. Her grandmother had made it for Ma’s hope chest. It was to belong to Caroline someday.

She slipped under the sheets and pulled the bedspread close about her as though it were the loving arms of Ma keeping her safe and warm. She wiped away the remnant of tears shed by her argument with Nate. He could not understand her loss was not simply facing the physical difficulties of cold and hunger. The loss of order in a world that had held her secure by its rules, now left her emotionally bereft. Who was she now that the old rules didn’t apply? Once it had been important to be the daughter of James Dilbert Ashcroft II. She vied with other young women to be the most popular and attractive young woman at the balls. She had received countless compliments for faultless manners and gracious behavior. Now there were no young men to admire her except for Jed, and Nate, who didn’t admire her at all. Would this war never end? When it did would the world right itself back into place?

She sighed as she closed her eyes, dreaming of winding staircases and fashionable ball gowns. She awoke, huddled under the blankets in a cold bedroom that had not been warmed since Pa died. She swung her feet from the bed to face another day of hard work. Shivering, she slipped into her clothes and crept to her own room to wash her face before Gran or Andrew awoke to discover the childish way in which she’d sought comfort.

****

Nate cringed as noises from the kitchen woke him from a restless sleep. He wanted to make Caroline understand that God could use her hard circumstances to grow her in His love if she’d only give Him the chance. Instead, he’d said things all wrong and made her leave in tears. He’d intended only to jolt her out of her bitterness. He wished he’d bitten his tongue rather than make her think he took her suffering lightly.

He held his breath as footsteps approached, hoping it would be Caroline who would bring a breakfast tray. He fought back disappointment as Gran rapped lightly and entered the room. “How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Sikes?”

“Better each day, thanks to fine care. I’d best try my feet again and see if I can get up and out of your way. I’ve taken up your room long enough.”

Gran frowned. “Don’t push yourself. It would be better to make sure you have your strength before you get up and hurt yourself worse. That would put you in bed longer than you would have been if you’d stay put.”

Nate accepted the tray, as his mouth watered with the aroma of salt pork and grits.

“I won’t push it. But I can’t be eating up your food.”

Gran smiled. “Don’t worry. The Lord takes care of us, even if Miss Caroline doesn’t always recognize His hand.”

When Gran left, Nate gritted his teeth and eased himself to the edge of the bed. His wound, though healing nicely, still caused pain when he moved. Shifting his weight to his feet, he ignored the burning in his shoulder as he tried to stand erect. No matter what Gran said, he couldn’t continue to be a burden to Caroline, especially when she blamed him for so much of her trouble.

He released the bedpost and set his sight on the mahogany wardrobe across the room. His forehead dampened with perspiration at the effort of his movement.

Caroline hadn’t thought of entering Nate’s room, hadn’t a clue as to what she’d say to him after the quarrel last night. Still, she had not been able to resist a glance inside as she trudged past on her way to the back door to empty the pan of dishwater. She saw him making slow progress, hand extended toward the wardrobe. The bandage around his shoulder did little to hide his well-formed torso, bare above the wrinkled blue army pants in which he’d arrived in her yard. She flew to his side.

“What are you thinking? You’ll pass out and have a broken skull to match your other injury.”

He gritted his teeth, his chin set in determination. “Lying in bed isn’t going to help me get my strength back.”

He continued his exercise. Yet Caroline noted with a certain pleasure that he did not refuse the shoulder she offered for him to lean upon. She supported him on his journey back to bed, his body so close it would have been improper had he not been injured.

His warm skin radiated through the fabric of her gingham dress. She helped him lower onto the mattress and missed the warmth his physical condition had permitted. What would it feel like to be held against his broad chest, not from need of support, but desire of company? She held the picture in her mind as she drew up the cover, her cheeks warm with guilt.

“If you’re going to be up and around, I’ll see if James has a shirt or two that would fit. I’m afraid that bullet made yours unusable.” He studied her, his expression guarded.

“I hope I didn’t offend you. My current appearance surely hasn’t been acceptable for a lady.”

“Oh, no, I’ve not been offended.” She bit her lip, hoping her quick assurance didn’t make her sound less than a lady.

A new rush of heat flooded her face as she sought to conceal her thoughts about his appearance. The tall lieutenant with deep blue eyes captivated her as no other man had ever done. She had not willed it to be so, yet, from the moment they brought him into the house, she had found herself imagining the thrill of romance. She’d tried to believe it was because she was lonely with so many young men off to war.

She knew that wasn’t the truth, for she’d not felt lonely since Nate had arrived. Though some of their conversations had been painful, they had touched her very soul. Her beaux had steered away from subjects that might uncover a difference of opinion, preferring shallow and unfulfilling talk compared to Nate, who openly shared what was on his mind.

How odd to know a Union soldier’s dreams and opinions far better than those of the boys with whom she’d grown up. But Nate didn’t feel bound by the rules of conversation of her world. She went about her tasks marveling at the freedom the abandonment of rules had given her with Nate.

“Steer me to the porch today. I’ll sit outside for awhile,” Nate requested as he leaned against Caroline’s shoulder. He’d spent the past few days up as much as his strength would allow. Today with early spring sunshine pouring in his window, he longed to feel its warmth.

Caroline settled a light blanket across his shoulders. If she were still upset by their conversation that caused her to flee in tears, she showed no sign of it. She displayed the unruffled manners of the perfect Southern lady. Nate settled back, musing about Caroline.

A boy stepped out the front door. His profile looked a great deal like Caroline. “You must be Andrew,” Nate said.

Andrew spun to face Nate. His eyes grew wide. Color drained from his face so quickly Nate wondered if he would pass out.

“You don’t have any reason to be afraid. I’m hoping we can be friends.”

Andrew began to stammer. “You shouldn’t be out here. Not where you could be seen.”

“By whom? The Confederate troops have retreated.” Though Nate suspected his words would be painful for the boy to hear, he wanted to base their friendship on truth.

“There’s others who wouldn’t like to see you here, sir. Please, just go back to your army and never tell anyone you were here.”

“You don’t need to fear the army. And if you’re worried about neighbors seeing me, I’ll be sure to keep a sharp look-out so they won’t think you’re a Union sympathizer.”

Andrew frowned. “You should worry about yourself more than us if anyone finds out you’re here.”

Nate touched his shoulder where the homemade sling bound his arm to his chest. “I found out how your neighbors feel the hard way.”

Andrew bit his lip. “Did you see who shot you?”

“No. It happened too fast. I don’t remember much about it except for seeing my men go down.”

The boy hesitated. “I have to plow now. We plant next month.”

Nate studied Andrew. “You ever plowed before?”

“Not until yesterday, sir. But everyone’s gone ‘cept Caroline and Gran, so there’s just me to do it.”

“It’s a big job.” Nate thought of the hours he’d spent behind a plow. He flexed his shoulder, wondering how soon he’d be mended. Andrew was small for his age and the fields were extensive. Like Caroline, Andrew seemed determined to do whatever it took to keep the plantation. But determination wasn’t always enough.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Andrew called over his shoulder as he headed for the field. Nate stared after him. From the way Andrew had avoided him, he’d expected a much colder reception. Perhaps there was hope for friendship after all.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER FIVE

The next few days fueled that hope. Andrew seemed drawn to Nate. Now that Nate was strong enough to come to the table for meals, he gave Andrew advice about plowing and planting. One day after a hard morning working the field, Andrew brought his books to the porch to do his studies. “What’s it like where you’re from?”

Nate smiled, thinking of his home. “I was raised in the foothills of some big blue mountains. There’s pine trees as far as you can see, and the smell of those trees always fills the air. In the spring, God waters the wild roses and they burst into bloom. They smell pretty, too. Ma planted some beside the house. We lived on a little dirt farm, but when I was a kid, I thought it was the best place in the world.”

Andrew puckered his brow. “I’ve never been anywhere except here and to town. I want to go places and see things. I want to cross rivers and see mountains and rivers and Indians. Caroline doesn’t understand why I want to do those things.”

Nate grinned as he ruffled Andrew’s hair. “I understand it perfectly. I plan on going west when I leave the army. There’s good land for the taking there. A man can work hard and have more to live on than taters and possum.”

Andrew sighed. “I wish I could go, but Caroline thinks it’s crazy to chance danger when we’ve always had what we needed right here.”

Nate scanned the gravel drive, lined with magnolias ready to burst into bloom. In the last week, spring had arrived. The honeysuckle that grew along the sides of the house scented the air with its fragrance.

“You have a nice place. I can see why Caroline loves it.”

Andrew nodded. “Not much adventure here, though.”

“There’s more hard work than adventure anywhere you go.” Through the open window, Nate heard Caroline singing as she moved about the parlor. He leaned back, straining to hear her soft soprano. Her voice faded as she left the room. Nate brought his thoughts back to Andrew.

“We better get back to your lessons before your sister finds out you’re not studying and skins us.”

****

At supper, Nate announced, “With a little help, I think I could walk out to that field Andrew’s been working on.”

Caroline bit her lip. “Are you sure you’re well enough?”

Her question made him think that it would soon be time for him to leave them. He had come to look forward to her companionship. His injury had excused the long evenings spent in his bedchamber—evenings that would not have been proper had he been well. He would miss those times.

He shook the dismal thought and answered. “I’m well enough if I can borrow a shoulder to lean against.”

A flush tinged Caroline’s cheeks and he wondered if she’d guessed that his pulse raced whenever his care brought their bodies close.

“You can lean on me,” Andrew offered. His dark eyes shone. “I want to show you that most of the first field is plowed.”

Caroline laughed as Andrew intercepted Nate’s plan to gain her shoulder, and Nate could do nothing but chuckle also.

“I’ll come, too. I want to see the field,” she said. She turned to Andrew. “I know you’ve worked hard. I don’t know what we’d do without you, seeing as it’s almost time to plant.”

When the dishes were cleared, Gran insisted on sending them ahead while she finished up. “Take your shawl, Caroline. The night air will be coming, and you don’t want to catch cold.”

Caroline pulled her shawl off the hook in the kitchen and complied. The fire of the rosy sun put sparks in her dark eyes as she walked close to his elbow. It was the first long walk he’d attempted since his injury. Every hundred yards he had to stop to rest. Then, with two shoulders for support, he was able to continue doggedly on.

After the third rest, he saw the result of Andrew’s effort. The earth turned under in shallow crooked rows. Nate had done better by Andrew’s age. But then, he’d grown up doing the work instead of watching it get done. Plowing took practice. A lot. He searched for something he could say in compliment.

Glancing at Caroline, he saw she shared his dilemma. She’d caught her lip between her teeth, eyes narrowed as she surveyed the disorderly field. Nate’s heart lurched, knowing she saw yet another example of the battles they’d waged to survive. Disappointment and discouragement had become a part of their life.

Andrew studied their faces. “It’s not so straight, is it?”

Nate put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s a fine effort for a first try with the plow. Would you like me to come out here tomorrow while you work and give you some advice?”

Andrew’s face brightened. “Yes, sir. That would be great. I’m going back to tell Gran.”

Andrew ran ahead, leaving Nate alone with Caroline. He took her hand, drawing her to face him. The rosy glow of the setting sun cast a pink shadow on her pale face. “I owe you a debt for saving my life. I can never repay that, but I can help you get this crop in the ground.”

He silenced her protest with a finger to her lips. Their softness thrilled him, causing him to trail his finger down the ruby warmth. His gaze lingered on her face, as the desire to kiss her welled.

With effort, he corralled his wayward thoughts. “I have to leave in a few days to find my regiment. They’ll be wondering what’s become of me and my men. As soon as I get some leave, I’ll come back to help you.”

She lowered her gaze. Was it disappointment he saw on her face?

His heartbeat quickened. Caroline pulled her shawl close about her, raising her dark eyes to search his face.

“You’re not healed yet. And you don’t even know where to find your regiment. You might walk for days.”

“They’ll leave detachments along the way. I’ll meet up with one before I go far.”

“You needn’t push yourself. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, rending his heart and making him want to promise never to leave her side. Yet he had a job to finish, a duty to resume. He prayed the war would be over soon and he could return to make sure all was well with Caroline and her beloved plantation.

Her lip trembled. “Once you go, I won’t know what becomes of you. I’ll spend my life wondering if you survived.”

Nate ran a finger along her smooth cheek and felt her shiver. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m able. Don’t you think I’d always wonder what became of you, my ministering angel?”

A tear escaped, colliding with his finger. He longed to comfort her. His impulse dictated to his heart as he leaned down and gently tasted her lips.

Caroline closed her eyes and melted against his broad chest. The part of her heart that protested the traitorous act was drowned out by her feelings for Nate. His warmth and strength drew her to him. She stood mesmerized by his kiss until she heard Andrew calling to her from afar.

“Caroline, where are you? Aren’t you coming back?”

She drew away from Nate, her face flushed, thoughts confused. She could not be in love with this man. It was impossible. Surely God would not let her suffer the embarrassment of falling in love with an enemy soldier. What would her older brother think if he should return from war and hear that she had feelings for this man? Disloyalty gripped her.

She held her skirts above the damp grass as she helped him toward the house. She saw Gran standing on the porch. Gran knew her well. The woman would surely read her guilt. Why had she let this happen? Why hadn’t she kept a tighter rein on her heart?

She avoided Gran’s sharp eyes as she and Nate walked up to the porch. She willed her ragged breathing to relax, her face to compose itself into a mask of innocence. Only then might she avoid the inquisition she knew Gran capable of waging.

After helping Nate to the kitchen, she went back and hung her shawl in the entryway. She heard Andrew chattering to Nate, and her face softened as she thought of her little brother. Andrew had missed James dreadfully. After the war started, the hired men who’d worked the fields had left to join in the war effort, and both of the girls who’d worked in the house left to become nurses. Then, Pa got sick, and there had been so much work to do she’d had little time for a lonely little boy. Andrew had been forced to take on chores they’d never thought he’d have to tackle. Gran always said what didn’t kill a person made them stronger.

Perhaps when this nightmare ended they would have no need to be stronger. Yet, as she thought of the devastation the South was suffering, she shuddered. She and her neighbors would need every ounce of determination they could muster just to hold on to their land.

She busied herself checking the sourdough starter for tomorrow’s biscuits. She dared not meet Nate’s eyes for fear he would read her feelings for him, feelings that seemed beyond her will to control.

“Mr. Sikes is going to watch me whittle,” Andrew informed her. “He used to whittle a lot before he joined the war.”

Caroline forced a smile. “That’s a pleasant way to pass the time.” Her heartbeat quickened as she felt Nate watching her.

She pictured him back on his farm, strong hands gripping the plow handles.

He said, “We didn’t have a lot of extra time running a dirt farm. Still, my brothers and I used to sit on the porch and whittle in the evening when the chores were done. Pa read from the Bible while Ma and the girls tended to the mending.”

“My pa used to read from the Bible, too,” she said softly without looking up.

“Would you mind if I read aloud tonight while you worked on your sewing?”

Caroline glanced up quickly into eyes that searched so deeply that she felt her very soul exposed. Could she hear aloud those words of Scripture that reminded her so much of Pa? What had they done for her father? His faith hadn’t saved her Ma, stopped the war, or kept him with them when they needed him so much. As she struggled with her answer, Nate turned to Gran.

“What do you think?”

She nodded vigorously. “I think that’s a good idea, Mr. Sikes. There’s nothing like words from the Good Book to bring comfort during hard times.”

“Then I’ll get my Bible. We can sit here in the warm kitchen.”

When they were settled around the table, Nate glanced around at the faces. Meeting Caroline’s eyes, he smiled as though to assure her. Perhaps he sensed how much she dreaded the thought of having to sit and listen to words that seemed not to live out their promise.

“Should we have a time of prayer?” Nate asked.

They bowed their heads while he asked, “Heavenly Father, please bless our understanding of Your words and guide me in any verses You want me to share. Thank you for providing for our salvation and our daily bread. Amen.”

He opened his worn Bible and began to read, “In the land of Uz there lived a man whose name was Job.”

By the time he reached the second chapter, Caroline poked her needle angrily in and out of the shirt she was mending. She bit back her rage at a God who would allow such trials for a godly man. Bitterly she thought that if Nate had wanted to convince her of God’s love, he’d certainly picked the wrong book.

Nate paused to give Andrew advice about the eagle he was carving. He ran a finger under the eagle’s neck. “Shave a little more off under the head, right here.”

Andrew nodded and went back to work.

Caroline seized the break to ask between gritted teeth, “Would anybody like a cup of coffee?”

Gran nodded, so Caroline scooted her chair back with more force than was necessary, and hurried into the kitchen. She set the ground yams to boil, glad for the opportunity to give legs to her annoyance.

Nate continued to read. The richness of his voice would have been soothing if her mind had not been reeling with the unfairness of God. Surely Job had been angry with God, just as she was angry now.

Her hands trembled as she drained the coffee and set the cups on the table.

She picked up her mending, biting her lip as Nate read, “What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me.”

Life held no protection. All her dreads and fears could come upon her. James could fail to return. They could still lose their home. She longed to plug her ears and keep out the words.

Nate closed the Bible. “Three chapters is enough for one night.”

It was more than enough as far as Caroline was concerned.

“Job had plenty of troubles, but never gave up on the Lord,” Gran observed.

Nate nodded. He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “And the Lord never gave up on him.”

“Never let up on him, you mean,” Caroline snapped.

Nate’s gaze lingered on her face. “You remind me of Job. You don’t understand the reason for your trials and neither did he. Just remember you don’t know the end of the story.”

“I can’t think what would make up for all he went through.”

“Just wait,” Nate encouraged. He brushed a stray hair off her cheek, then picked up his Bible and headed for bed.

After he was out of hearing range, Gran clucked her tongue. “He really likes you. How do you feel about him?”

Caroline sighed. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be wrong to let myself fall for a Yankee?”

“You know, dear, Yankees are human beings just like the rest of us.”

Caroline bit her lip.

“You just leave it to the Lord. Have faith.”

Caroline picked up the lantern and headed for the stairs. “I’m a little weak there. You’ll have to have faith for both of us, Gran.”

****

Caroline felt as though she had just fallen asleep when the sound of a horse’s whinny in the chilly dawn awoke her. She sat up, wondering if she had imagined the sound. It came again, clear and distinct from below her open window. She sprang to her feet and dashed to peek past the rosy velvet curtains. The horse stood, vacant of rider, waiting patiently near the porch rail.

Her heart leaped with joy. James must have returned. Her mind adjusted to the thought as her pulse raced with anticipation. He’d come back, and he wasn’t wounded, at least not too badly to walk into the house. She pulled her chenille wrapper close about her lacy gown and ran barefooted into the hall. Her hair tumbled down her back in wild curls. She hiked the flounces of her robe and gown to her knees to allow her to hurry unencumbered down the stairs.

She paused at the bottom, perplexed. The front door stood open, yet there was no one in view. She would have believed James would enter quietly so as not to startle them from sleep. But where was he? Footsteps creaked on the parlor floor. She turned toward the sound.

“James?” She walked to the doorway, ready to embrace her brother in joyful greeting. Already her mind raced ahead to his comfort. He would surely be hungry. They had salt pork and she could mix up more sourdough biscuits. A last jar of elderberry jam sat on the pantry shelf. She stepped into the doorway and stared at the face that stared back.

Her hand flew to her throat, freezing her greeting. The stranger’s greasy blond hair spilled over the edge of his collar. Pale eyes the color of seaweed raked over her as a smile tugged at his thin lips. The dingy blue uniform proclaimed him a Yankee deserter. He held her mother’s silver candelabra in one dirt encrusted hand. In the other he held a cocked pistol. Caroline felt bile rise in her throat along with her anger.

Her mouth felt dry. “Put that down and get out of my house.”

He took a step toward her, brandishing his weapon.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you? You here alone?”

She retreated until her back pressed against the banister. He leveled the gun, holding her prisoner. She longed to scream, to call out for Nate. Yet terror for his safety filled her heart. This vile creature would surely shoot anyone who came to her rescue.

The terrible vision left her cold with fear. His stale breath carried the odor of tobacco. He crushed her against him, pressing the pistol tightly to her temple. “Let’s head upstairs and make sure we’re alone before we have us a party. And don’t think of calling out a warning, ‘cause I’ll shoot them first and then you.”

Caroline felt her knees would buckle as he forced her up the stairs. His cold eyes left no doubt he would murder Gran, Andrew, and Nate.

“Please, Nate,” she begged silently. “Find a way to stop him from killing us all.”

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER SIX

The soldier pressed Caroline’s body hard against Andrew’s closed door. “Anybody in here?”

“Only my brother. He’s just a little boy.”

“Too bad he won’t get to grow up.” Caroline held her breath as he reached for the door knob. She had to save Andrew, even if she died trying. She struggled to slide past him as he twisted the knob.

He held the gun tighter against her head and growled. “Don’t make me put a bullet in your pretty head.”

Suddenly, she heard Nate’s voice and realized he had come cat-like up the stairs.

“You’re trespassing, private. I found this pretty lady first.”

Startled, the gunman twisted Caroline in front of him to face Nate, positioned on the landing. Hope of rescue battled with fear for his safety as she saw him, dressed in blue army pants and his stained and wrinkled coat. A gun glinted in his right hand, pointed at her captor.

She longed to call out to him, but the cold calculation in his eyes froze her voice. She felt dizzy. The arm across her chest held her pinned so tightly she found it difficult to breathe.

The man spoke to Nate. “What’s a lieutenant doing in a Confederate house?”

“Same thing as you.”

Doubt tinged the private’s voice. “An officer looking for spoils?”

“Yep. I can make better pay looting plantations than fighting a war. Then, I can take my profit out West. But I work alone, and I don’t share.”

Their attention shifted as Andrew opened his door. His expression changed from sleepy-eyed curiosity to wide-eyed surprise. He stared at the gun pointed at Caroline’s head and held his breath.

The man jerked Caroline backwards. He tried to sound confident, yet she felt his damp shirt and the pounding of his heart through her thin nightclothes as he said, “Seems to me I got the advantage, Lieutenant. I bet you’d hate to see me shoot this pretty lady.”

Nate kept an icy stare leveled at the man’s face. His hand held steady on his weapon. “I don’t care who you shoot. She means nothing to me. But you’ll die if you kill her and give me a clear shot at you. Your only chance is to walk down these stairs and get out of here.”

Gran stepped into the hall, uttering a spontaneous prayer as she took in the scene.

The man hesitated. He plainly resented being ordered away from a lucrative pillage. Yet, if he shot Caroline, he was sure to be shot by Nate.

He nudged Caroline forward. Her head ached from the pressure of the gun. “Okay, but back away. She’s coming with me down the stairs. Then I’ll ride off and leave you to enjoy yourself.”

Bitterness filled his voice. Nate backed down the stairs, keeping his sights on the intruder. With Caroline in tow, the man edged down the stairs, halting at the open front door. In a quick motion, he released her and dashed for his horse.

Caroline sagged to the floor, weak from relief and sudden release. Nate squatted beside her.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head as hot tears sprang to her eyes.

“I thought he was James. I hurried down and then...” Her breath caught in a gasp at the nightmare of expecting a familiar face and finding a fiend.

“I know. But it’s okay now.” Nate gently stroked her hair.

Gran put her arms around Caroline and rocked her to and fro. Caroline wiped away the tears and peered up at Nate.

“How did you know he wouldn’t shoot me? You told him you didn’t care.”

He smiled shakily. “It was the best acting job of my life. If he had thought I cared, he would have hurt you enough to make me put down my gun.”

She sighed. “Accosted by one Yankee and saved by another. I hope the dregs of your army don’t beat a path to my door.”

Nate lifted her gently to her feet. “There’s all kinds of Yankees just like there’s all kinds of Confederates. Just to be safe, I’ll leave you my pistol while I’m out in the field with Andrew. You know how to use one, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I know how to use one.” She pressed her lips into a grim line.

****

After breakfast, Nate showed Andrew how to harness the horses properly and to fasten their traces. As they walked to the field, the memory of Caroline’s frightened face lingered, causing him to glance back at the house. Any doubt about the depth of his feeling for her had vanished as soon as he’d seen her in danger.

How could he leave her here unprotected while he rejoined his forces? He could only pray that the war would end quickly and that God would keep her safe.

The fields had been neglected in the fall. Nate saw no sign they’d been plowed or spread with manure. A big job lay ahead of them, and the first step was to finish the rough plowing, then harrow the fields smooth. He hoped Andrew would prove big enough for the job.

“Set the teeth so they overlap the strip you’ve already done,” he instructed Andrew when he’d begun to harrow. His crooked efforts improved under Nate’s tutelage.

By lunch time, the first field was ready for planting. They arrived back at the house tired and hungry. Andrew’s feet and the bottom of his pants were crusted with dirt.

After lunch, they turned up the small vegetable garden near the house. That completed, Caroline accompanied them to the field to plant the first field of cotton. With the three of them working, it went quickly, and they finished in time for Caroline to help Gran fix supper.

Andrew’s small face was pale with fatigue. Nate supposed his young arms ached from the unaccustomed exercise. Relief etched his features when Nate glanced at the sun, and said, “It’s too late to start plowing the next field. We’ll start early in the morning.”

Andrew turned in right after supper, leaving the adults alone in the kitchen.

Gran settled herself at the table with her handwork. “Would you read some more from the Bible, Mr. Sikes? It’s such a comfort to hear the sound of a man’s voice.”

Nate ignored Caroline’s grimace. He opened to Job and continued an account of the trials. A chapter later, he closed the Bible.

“That’s enough for tonight. It’s been a long day for all of us.”

Caroline frowned while Gran and Nate exchanged good-nights. “I’d like to know why you told me I reminded you of Job. The more you read, the less I like the comparison.

Nate laughed. “Trust me; it’s not a physical comparison. It’s how Job thought about God. He didn’t have a personal relationship. And neither do you. He trusted that doing the right things earned God’s blessings. But God wanted more.”

He looked at her closely. “Job put great stock in his position, in what others thought of him. He suffered terribly when he lost all he had. But it was the only way for God to get his attention, to form a relationship that did not involve rituals or social position.”

“Perhaps I am vain about social position. And I enjoy comforts. But making life hard doesn’t seem like a good way to win my faith,” Caroline snapped.

“Just wait. We haven’t got to the end of the story.” Nate smiled. “God rewards Job’s trust by revealing Himself and blessing Job more than he ever imagined.”

Tears started in Caroline’s eyes. “I know you’re trying to encourage me. And I have tried to pray. But it frightens me to realize how little control I have over what may happen. Who knows how long we’ll live in want and poverty, maybe even losing the roof over our heads.”

Nate brushed a stray tendril off her temple while Gran cleared her throat to remind them of her presence. “You won’t lose your place if there’s any way I can prevent it. I’ll make sure the cotton is planted before I leave. The sale of the crop should give you enough to pay taxes.”

She smiled at him with such tenderness he felt as if his heart would melt. Her slender fingers curled across his hand.

“Perhaps you are an answer to prayer. Before you came, I felt I was stumbling in the darkness. I’d lost hope for the future. You’ve lit a candle in my heart.”

He swallowed hard over the lump of happiness in his throat. “Sleep well, Caroline.”

****

The next morning, Nate woke at dawn. After a quick breakfast, he accompanied Andrew to the fields to tackle the plowing and harrowing.

Nate found that his injury had healed enough to let him help Andrew with the harrow, making the work go quicker. By lunch, another field was ready for planting.

The rest of the week passed in a seemingly endless round of harrowing and planting. Up by dawn and ending at dark. Caroline helped with the planting and, at last, the cotton lay planted safely in the ground.

Nate stood with them, looking over the tidy fields as the sun glowed orange on the horizon. If they had more hands they could have planted more crops. But this was enough to get them by. Pride overcame the lines of fatigue on Andrew’s and Caroline’s faces. These two, who had never done a hard day’s work in a field, had planted cotton. He was sure their backs ached and their hands were raw from work, but he had never been more proud of anyone.

They ate a cold supper, and then settled around the table. Andrew whittled on the block of wood he was making into an eagle while Caroline worked on turning the frayed cuffs of what had once been an attractive frock.

Gran’s graying head bent over the shirt she mended for Andrew. “Thanks to Mr. Sikes we’ll have cotton to cord and make new clothes this summer.” Caroline smiled. Her dark eyes caressed his face. “Gran’s right. I don’t know how we would have managed without you.”

Nate swallowed hard, not looking forward to the announcement he had to make. “There’s nothing I’d like better than to stay here and watch that cotton pop up. But, truth is, I’m well enough to travel, and I’d just be putting off my duty. I’m leaving in the morning to find my detachment.”

He saw Caroline bite her lip. The simple gesture tugged at his heart. He longed to pull her close and plant kisses on her rosebud lips and that hair which smelled like lilacs. He wanted to make her forget there had ever been, or could ever be, any other man in her life. He longed to promise that he would come back for her, and that, despite their differing dreams, they would find a way to be together. Instead, he sat with his hands clasped and wondered if she cared for him half as much as he cared for her.

Someone knocked at the door. Caroline rose swiftly, her eyes wide with alarm.

Nate laid his hand atop hers. “The Yankees won’t bother you if they know I’m here. If it’s Confederates, I’ll stay out of sight.”

Trembling, Caroline forced herself to go to the door. She envisioned the man who had invaded her house and threatened her welfare. All that bolstered her courage was the memory that he hadn’t bothered to knock.

Her heart pounded as she opened the door a crack and peered into the darkness. Even if she had wanted to keep the ornate outdoor lanterns alight, the scarcity of oil did not allow it. Besides, the light might cast an invitation to an unwelcome stranger. By the dim hall lamp, she recognized Jed, standing with his hat in hand.

“Good evening Caroline. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” She struggled to regain her composure as she asked him inside.

“No. Come in. We just finished supper. May I get you anything? Perhaps some coffee?” He shook his head. She smelled a faint scent of whiskey on his breath.

“This is only partially a social visit.” His tone made her uneasy.

“Then perhaps you better sit down and tell me the reason you’ve come.”

He nodded and followed her into the parlor.

“I’ve got some bad news.”

She frowned. “How bad?”

“The Yankees have put the county under martial law. That puts me out of work.” Bitterness filled his voice.

She placed a hand over his. “Oh, Jed, I’m sorry.”

He rubbed a hand across his wiry ginger-brown beard. “That’s not all. I saw the new list of our soldiers who’ve been killed in battle.”

An icy chill fill her veins. Her heart beat wildly with fear.

“Not James.” The words were not a question, but a demand that it not be so

“I’m sorry, Caroline.” He moved closer until his knee nestled against hers. “I thought it best that I bring you the news.”

The agony of what she had feared all these months filled her heart with unbearable pain. She buried her face in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut as though she could squeeze out the unwelcome words. Yet, her mind screamed out that the war that had already robbed her of so much had now robbed her of her brother. It was an insatiable monster who ate away at their lives until there was nothing left. She heard sobs and only vaguely recognized them as her own.

Jed’s voice penetrated the fog of pain. “This is a hard time for you to make a decision, but I think it would be best if we got married straight away. I know there’s usually a proper time set aside for bereavement, but these aren’t usual times. Tell me you’ll marry me. We’ll go to town this weekend.”

Caroline’s numb mind refused to register his request. She heard footsteps, and then Gran’s voice.

“What is it? Not James?”

Jed shifted closer.

“Tell her Gran. Tell her she should marry me. She has no choice now with James gone.”

Gran sank onto the couch, tears flowing down her cheeks as she reached over to Caroline.

“Caroline?” Jed said.

“Go, please, go.” Caroline choked out the words.

Nate waited in the shadows of the dining room and prayed for words of comfort. He wanted to go to Caroline, to tell her she need not marry a man who had the ill breeding to suggest a wedding one breath after he announced a funeral.

He clenched his jaw, impatient for Jed to leave. When he heard the door shut, he moved from the shadows to the dim light of the parlor. Andrew stood watching the women as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Nate rubbed his hand gently across the boy’s hair as Andrew wiped at his tears.

“It’s all right, Andrew. You’ve got a right to cry.”

Sobbing, Gran said, “James isn’t suffering. He’s gone to be with the Lord.”

Caroline cried out. “Leaving the rest of us to mourn. I hate the Yankees. They’ve ruined our lives.”

Andrew sniffed loudly and dashed for the stairs.

Nate swallowed over the lump that had risen in his throat. Then he headed quietly to his room.

He found his sleep disturbed by dreams of Caroline. He awoke in the night and thought he heard her sobbing. He buried his head in his pillow and tried to shut out the sound and memory of Caroline. It hurt to know that, while he longed to comfort her, she wanted nothing to do with any Yankee.

In the morning, he collected his few belongings and saddled the horse which Caroline had said he might borrow. He slipped back into the house, planning to find pen and ink in the parlor and leave Caroline a note.

The floorboards protested his passing, sounding loud in the quiet house. As he passed beside the stairs, a creak drew his attention. He jerked his head to see Caroline standing like a ghost on the landing. He tried to read her expression, to find hope that she might soften toward him, and found only aloofness. Though her eyes were reddened from tears, her determined composure suited the black dress with high ruffled collar she wore in mourning.

“I heard about James. I’m sorry, Caroline.”

She nodded, commencing her descent of the stairs. She paused at the bottom. “I suppose you’ll be leaving this morning? I’ll get your breakfast.”

Nate’s jaw tightened as Caroline retreated into the perfect southern hostess.

They stood in silence. The barrier of their differing loyalties stood like a boulder between them. Nate’s hands grew damp with anxiety. If only she would storm at him and beat him with her fists he could quiet her in his arms. Her terrible politeness killed his hope worse than any show of emotion. He swallowed hard. He knew any bite of food he ate would stick on the way down.

“It’s not a long ride to Branchville. I’ll eat when I get there.”

He opened his hand to reveal a small dove carved of pine. “I want you to have this. I carved it right before I joined the war. It reminds me of a verse in chapter thirteen of Job. ‘Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.”

She made no move to accept the gift. Nate placed it in her hand and closed her fingers around it. “It reminds me that I can trust God’s plan for me even unto death.” He swallowed hard. “Even though it’s from a Yankee, I thought it might bring you comfort.”

“It’s very kind of you, I’m sure.” Her face, rigid as a china doll, looked fragile.

He longed to run a finger along her cheek, yet dared not chance rejection. Instead, he replied, “I won’t leave you to bear your burdens alone. I’ll come back to help you care for the crops we planted.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You needn’t bother. You don’t owe us anything.”

The frustration he’d held in check broke it’s carefully guarded bounds. “But I will bother. I don’t know why you accuse only the Yankees of bringing death. Lots of good men have died on each side. Northern women have lost brothers, husbands and sons. It’s as though you blame me for James’s death. I didn’t start this war, and I didn’t kill your brother.”

Without another look, he turned on his heel and strode out the door to the waiting horse.

Caroline felt the lump grow in her throat. She gripped the stair rail, longing to call to him, yet torn by her pain.

She watched him walk away while every fiber of her being screamed for him to stay. The sound of fading hoofbeats sent her fleeing to her room. She shut the door and threw herself across her bed where she gave in to the racking sobs that tore her throat.

Two months earlier, her decisions would have been easier. She still would have faced the pain of losing James. But she would have married Jed and faced her future with stoic resolve. Now that she had met Nate she could not bear the thought of marrying another. She sobbed for her losses, including Nate, if he took her words to heart and did not return.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER SEVEN

For two weeks Caroline dragged through her days. The tiny cotton plants pushed though the ground as did the peas and beans in her garden. The azaleas and impatiens burst into bright bloom. Yet, Caroline felt none of the usual pleasure at their glorious display. She went about her tasks of tending the garden and hoeing the field, feeling as dead inside as the few dead leaves that lingered on the lawn.

A blue sky dawned every morning, dotted with clouds that looked like passing sheep. The irrigation channel that ran though the fields spared Caroline the need to haul water for the crops. The tiny offshoot from the nearest field watered the garden. But with no rain in the last two weeks, the level of the river had dropped.

She squinted into the sky and sighed. If the cotton failed, they would lose their home. She could not allow herself to hope that Nate would return. Best to prepare herself for the inevitable. She would be forced to marry Jed to keep her family from starving.

With her thoughts dismally set, it seemed appropriate to see Jed ride up the drive as she stooped to pull a weed that threatened a tiny shoot of corn. She smoothed the curls that had escaped her sunbonnet, determined to ignore the look of disapproval that always flickered across his face when he saw her working.

He dismounted and walked his horse, allowing the tired animal to cool down. He’d been riding hard. His face, hardened with hostility for the Yankees, looked older than his years.

Caroline bit her lip as tears sprang to her eyes. How many of their men would go through lives as wretched as Jed had become, steeped in hatred, more scarred inside than out? He paused at the garden.

“It seems I can’t bring anything but bad news.”

Caroline sighed. “I can’t think of anything you could tell me that could be worse than losing James.”

“Worse? Things are going to get much worse with these Yankees around.” He fairly spat the words. His face contorted with hatred.

“We’re losing the war. I don’t know who can stop them from going wherever they please.”

“That’s exactly right. Someone must stop them.” His eyes held a wild illumination that frightened Caroline.

He brushed his hand through his hair and added, “They swagger through town like they belong there, telling decent folks what to do. I’m the law in my town. No Yank is going to brush me out of the way like a swatted fly. You wait and see. I’ll make them sorry they came here.”

She caught his arm to stop the tirade. “Hush now. There’s nothing you can do. You’ll just get yourself thrown in jail for causing trouble.”

Instead of calming him, her words increased his agitation. “In jail? No Yankee is putting me in my own jail. They’ll have to kill me first.”

Caroline squeezed his arm. “Stop it. It won’t help the rest of us for you to get yourself killed.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get rid of these locusts.”

Caroline dropped her hand. “It’s too late for that.” The burden of the war felt like a lead weight on her shoulders.

Jed’s lips formed a grim line. “Maybe we can’t turn the tide of the war, but that doesn’t mean we have to accept defeat. I’ll fight the Yankees as long as there’s breath in my body.” He clasped her hand to his lips, imparting a kiss before he turned and walked away.

She watched him mount up, his figure shrinking in the distance as he rode beside the tall magnolias. At least he hadn’t pressed her about marriage.

She shivered. His hatred had already widened the gulf between them. She could not hate the Yankees the way Jed did.

She hated the killing and burning and all that the Union army had done. But she couldn’t hate the men without seeing Nate’s face. Even her loyalty to the South could not compel her to hate Nate.

****

The next weekend, Jed returned with the look of a man determined to accomplish his errand. Caroline heard Gran’s cluck of disapproval as he followed Caroline to the parlor. “I want you to marry me this week. There’s nothing to wait on now. James is gone, and you need a man around here for protection. I’ve brought my grandmother’s engagement ring. It’s been in our family for generations.”

Caroline stared dumbly as he attempted to slide the ring on her finger. As it reached her knuckle, she jerked her hand away, foiling his attempt.

He scowled. “Is there something wrong with my grandmother’s ring?” The large diamond shimmered in the afternoon sun that poured in the window.

“No. It’s beautiful. It’s not the ring.”

“Then what is it?”

She bit her lip. “You’re rushing me. I’m not ready for such an important decision.”

His face darkened. She sensed the effort it took to control his temper.

“I don’t want to say things that hurt you, dear. Right now, you are still a beautiful woman. However, you must understand that the war has shortened the supply of handsome beaux to come courting at your feet. What do you hope to gain by waiting? Someone better than me?”

Caroline felt as trapped as a rabbit with a fox waiting outside its burrow. How could she explain to Jed that she had not meant to lead him on? She might have settled on him in the past. Yet, after tasting the nectar of genuine love, her stubborn heart would not let her settle.

She scrambled for an answer. She could neither tell Jed about Nate, nor allow herself to be forced into marriage. Her determination rose at the flash of anger in his eyes. She drew a deep breath.

“The war has confused my feelings. You can either give me time to sort them out or find someone else for this ring.”

She watched him swallow hard in a struggle to control his irritation.

“Very well, Caroline. I want you to keep the ring. You don’t have to wear it. Just put it where you can see it. Think about how much easier your life would be if you had me here. We’d hire a few field hands to tend your land, and you could stay in the house and not burn that pretty skin.”

She resisted the urge to flinch as he ran a hand lightly across her face. What was wrong with her? She’d known this man for years. Yet it seemed she could hardly bear his touch.

“Please,” she began. He cut her off with a finger to her lips.

“Keep the ring. It’s the least you can do for me. Now promise you’ll think about what I said.”

Caroline gave a miserable nod, feeling more trapped than ever by the impossibility of commanding her feelings to abide by what was logical. The knowledge that he would return, demanding either compliance or an explanation, tainted her relief at his departure.

Gran stood with her hands on her hips as Caroline closed the door. She could feel the weight of her grandmother’s disapproval. Gran had never been one to hold back her opinion. Despite the circumstances, Caroline felt amused at Gran’s attempt to be tactful.

“I don’t mean to pry, but you have no business considering marriage to Jed. He’s not a Christian, and no good can come of it.”

Caroline smoothed her skirt and faced Gran’s scowl. “What would you have us do? If the crops fail, we’ll all starve.”

Gran shook her head. “The crops aren’t going to fail. The Lord takes care of His own.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m right.” Gran continued to mutter her displeasure as she headed to the kitchen.

Caroline watched fondly, thinking how childlike her grandmother seemed in her faith, always believing someone would take care of her. It reminded her...of what?

Suddenly, she paused. It was a verse in the Bible she’d heard long ago. She picked up the family Bible from the parlor table and sat down on the settee. She thumbed through the gospels, searching until she found the eighteenth chapter of Matthew.

She placed her finger under the verses and read, “At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them, and said, ‘Truly, I say to you unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’”

Tears filled her eyes. If only she could trust God the way Nate had challenged her to do. What was the verse he had quoted from Jeremiah? She flipped back in her Bible and read. “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

She brushed away the tears and continued reading, “Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me; when you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes...”

She stopped reading and closed the Bible. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Nate had said God wanted as personal a relationship with her as He had with Job. Could she call upon the Lord? Would he hear her if she prayed? She closed her eyes tightly.

“Lord, I set up many conditions for you to meet before I’d give you my life. Now I see that the trust comes first. Forgive me and strengthen me as I learn. I say, like Job, even though You may slay me, I will not turn away.”

Like a thunderstorm dwindles to gentle rain, her tears of anguish turned to joy. Peace closed about her like the tender arms of a loving parent. She set Jed’s ring atop the piano to be returned. She would not marry any man because of fear for her future. Either God would provide for them, or they would die in their trust. She was sure Jed would never understand her explanation for refusing him. Still, it was the best she could give.

Outside, she heard Andrew’s shouts of greeting before she saw the figure riding a strange horse and leading a familiar one. She froze on the porch, with Gran at her elbow.

“Why it’s Mr. Sikes. I’ll put another plate on the table.” Caroline could not move. The memory of the words she’d said at their parting made her heart beat painfully against her ribs. She wondered if Nate was remembering them. He greeted Andrew warmly, handing him a bag of licorice sticks. “How’s our cotton growing? Have you been tending to it?”

Andrew grinned. “I’ve been doing everything just like you said. The cotton’s this high now.” Andrew bent to show Nate the size of the thriving young plants.

Nate ruffled Andrew’s hair. “You’re a good farmer, it seems.”

“Come on. I’ll show you.” Andrew tugged at Nate’s jacket.

Nate handed Andrew the reins. “Hold on. I’ve got to return a borrowed horse. You take it to the stable and care for it along with mine while I talk to your sister. Then, we’ll see the cotton.”

Caroline could only stare. Though he’d lived in her daydreams, they had failed to do him justice. Now, standing before her in a uniform that brought out the blue of his eyes, she swallowed hard and waited for him to speak.

He regarded her solemnly. “You look surprised to see me. Didn’t I tell you I’d return?”

Caroline nodded. His gaze assessed her, probing her reaction. She swallowed hard.

“I’m glad to see you. I said some things to you I should never have said. I hope you can forgive me.”

A grin broke across his face like sunshine breaking a cloudy day. “I can forgive you because I love you—have loved you from the moment we met.”

Caroline’s cheeks flushed warmly. Her heart told her this was what love should be. The easy friendship and warm, eager feelings she felt for Nate had convicted her heart, preventing her from agreeing to marry Jed. His admission demanded an answer. Did she love him, too? Her heart beat swiftly.

“I love you. I don’t want anything to come between us ever again. A little while ago, I asked the Lord to help me trust Him. I want to sweep away the anger and bitterness that was keeping us apart. I may have setbacks, but I do want to change.” Nate’s eyes shone as he gathered her into his arms.

“We all fall short of the glory of God. But with God’s help, you’ll become a woman of faith.” He kissed the top of her head.

Caroline looked past his shoulder to see Gran appear in the doorway. A pleased grin lit her face.

“I set you a spot at the table, Mr. Sikes.” Nate pulled away to hold Caroline around the waist. “I hope you’ll pardon my enthusiasm in greeting Caroline, Ma’am.”

Gran clucked her tongue. “I know you’re a man of principle, Mr. Sikes, even if you are a Yankee. You have lots more principle than some folks around here.”

Caroline knew Gran referred to Jed. She only hoped the old woman would have enough sense not to mention the ring he had insisted she keep. As soon as she saw Jed again she would find a gentle way to refuse his proposal.

Andrew returned from the barn. “Now?” he questioned Nate eagerly.

Gran shook her head. “You wash up for dinner. Whatever you want of Mr. Sikes can wait until after you eat.”

“You will join us, won’t you?” Caroline looked into Nate’s tender gaze.

“I will. I have brought news that I want to share with all of you.”

Caroline’s heart felt light. “Good news, I hope.”

Nate nodded. “I hope so.”

They held hands at the table for the blessing.

Caroline had nearly forgotten his promise of news by the time they passed the candied yams and salt pork. But as they dug into dinner, Nate said, “I don’t want to bring up a painful subject or raise false hopes, but I checked the lists of Confederate dead. Your brother’s name wasn’t on any list.”

Caroline’s throat constricted until she was barely able to swallow her bite. “What did you say?”

“Your brother James isn’t on the lists.”

“But Jed...” She frowned, trying to make sense of the new information. Nate chewed his food thoughtfully. Caroline bit her lip. “Jed must have seen another list.”

Nate shook his head. “I don’t think so. I checked every list that’s come out, even the news that arrived by telegraph yesterday.”

Her frown deepened. “Then why?”

Nate set down his fork. Everyone’s eyes focused on his face. “Would Jed have anything to gain by telling you a lie?”

The shock turned Caroline’s blood cold. Could he have lied to her? Would he have lied to her for his own purpose? The possibility grew in her mind.

“He wanted me to marry him. He thought I had no choice if James didn’t return.”

As her thoughts cleared she realized, evil as his deed had been, she could hope again for James to return.

As Andrew began to understand the possibility that his brother could be alive, he nearly fell from his chair. “James isn’t dead? He promised he’d come back. I knew he’d keep his promise.”

Caroline laid a hand across his arm. “Hush Andrew. We must not let our hopes run away with us.”

Yet her own spirit soared just as wildly.

Nate pushed back his plate. “If it’s false hope, I hope you’ll all forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive for telling the truth,” Gran said.

Caroline’s emotions bubbled to the surface. She excused herself and hurried to the porch to gulp the magnolia scented air. Even this familiar perfumed comfort could not stem the tears of betrayal and relief that mingled to cascade down her cheeks. She sensed Nate’s presence before she heard his voice.

He stroked her hair gently. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, allowing him to press her to his chest. If the two men she loved most were safe, she could ask no more. She felt the beat of his heart, so strong, so reassuring. She longed to stay here in his arms forever, to feel him safe against her where no war could take him the way she’d feared James had been taken.

She thought of Jed, scarred and twisted by the war. He had grown up with James. They had played together since boyhood. He must have known how much grief he had caused her. Yet, he was willing to make her suffer in order to get his way. Had he no conscience?

Her intention to find a gentle way to refuse his proposal died with the discovery of his lie. As she wiped the angry tears from her face, Nate tipped her chin. Her anger melted, absorbed by the love in his eyes as he lowered his lips to hers.

His kiss lingered until Andrew’s voice interrupted.

“I would have been out sooner except Gran made me clear the dishes.”

They pulled apart. Andrew seemed oblivious to what he had interrupted. He bounded down the steps. “Don’t you want to see the cotton?”

Nate grinned. “I want to see the cotton.”

He turned to Caroline. “Will you come with us?”

“Of course. Let me get my bonnet. I must admit, though, I’ve seen more of those fields than I like lately when I’ve taken a turn hoeing.”

He squeezed her shoulders gently. “And learned things about crops you never wanted to know.”

She smiled at his teasing, recognizing the truth of his words. The hardships of war had stretched her in so many ways, forcing her to be self-reliant and resourceful where she had been dependent and weak. Perhaps every difficulty did have some shred of value.

Caroline bit her lip as Nate admired the growth of the cotton. No matter how hard she worked, it seemed more weeds grew up to challenge the tender plants. She knew Nate noticed the delicate balance of the battle.

“I have the day off. I’ll do some hoeing in exchange for my supper.”

“If you’re sure you feel like it.”

“I’m sure.”

Caroline and Andrew stayed to help Nate hoe. It amazed her that no matter how quickly they worked, Nate did two rows for every one they accomplished.

Late in the long afternoon, the three trudged in, hot and weary from the heat. The smell of Gran’s supper greeted them with a promise of relief for the hunger developed by hard work.

After supper, Nate stayed to read the Bible. Caroline found herself eager for the words, absorbing them like food for her hungry soul. The stars had popped out by the time Caroline walked Nate to the porch. They stood together admiring the velvet beauty of the night sky.

As Nate lingered beside her, Caroline knew he was no more eager to part than she was to see him go.

He looked into her eyes. “I don’t have to be back until tomorrow. It wouldn’t be seemly for me to stay in the house, but I could bed down in the barn. It’s going to be a warm night. We could have a Sunday worship service in the morning before I ride back.”

Caroline nodded. “I’d like that.”

Before she went to bed, she stood at her window staring at the barn where Nate had first taken refuge, and she thanked God for bringing him into her life. She crawled into bed safe in the knowledge that he lay sleeping close by.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER EIGHT

Nate nestled Caroline against his chest before he departed on Sunday afternoon. Stroking her velvet cheek, he promised, “I’ll come back during my next leave. And I’ll pray for you every day.”

“And I’ll pray for you.” Tilting her head to smile up at him earned her his kiss. She felt as though she were sending her heart away as she watched him ride off. She stayed on the lawn staring after him long after he disappeared—wasting time, she realized.

She shook off the loneliness that brought tears to her eyes. She had plenty to keep her busy and no time to give in to her weakness. The garden awaited its first harvest of tender peas. The carrots needed thinning and two fields still waited to be hoed. Although Gran’s advanced years and the rheumatism that had plagued her all winter made house and field work difficult, she disliked being idle, so she saw to most of the kitchen duties, leaving the more exerting tasks to Caroline and Andrew.

As she swept the parlor, the sound of an approaching rider caught her ear. She wasn’t expecting anyone until Nate’s next visit, and neighborly calls were as much a rarity as leisure. That meant another deserter could be heading toward the house. Her heart pounded as she seized the rifle now stowed on the mantle.

Though her heart led her to hope it might be James, the memory of the Yankee intruder lived vividly in her mind. She breathed a shaky sigh as Jed appeared beyond the line of trees. She set down the gun as he reined his horse to a walk, and then she frowned as anger replaced her relief.

She glared at him, remembering how he had lied to her about James. He had put her through misery for his own interests. He could forget any chance he’d ever had to win her affection. All she felt now was contempt.

His face was dark as a thundercloud as he dismounted and tied his horse to a post. Instead of a pleasant greeting, he tipped his hat and fixed her with narrowed eyes. She neglected to greet him or ask him to come inside, displaying none of the fine manners she’d been taught. Instead she bit back her swelling fury that he should come here and appear angry with her.

He paused at the bottom of the porch. “I heard rumors in town about you. Came to see if they’re true.”

Caroline blinked, taken aback. She had expected him to chastise her about her reluctance to marry.

“I don’t have a clue as to what you mean.”

“I overheard a Yankee talking about a lieutenant who’d gone to see his little belle. Called her Caroline. You know any Yankees?”

His question shocked her. She had not supposed news of Nate’s visits would have spread around town. Yet here Jed stood, glowering as he awaited her answer. Only a denial could save her from his scorn. Yet, denying Nate was something she would not do.

She pulled herself to the top of her diminutive height and faced him. “I do know a Yankee. I found him lying wounded in my yard and nursed him back to health. Naturally, he was grateful.”

Jed pointed an accusing finger at the house. “You nursed a Yankee back to health in the same house where I came calling? Have you no loyalty to the cause?”

Caroline strove to keep her voice steady. “I have loyalty to the cause. A higher calling commanded me to assist a helpless injured man. I’m not sorry I did it.”

“I know why you’re not sorry. You’ve fallen for that Yankee rabble.” His eyes dared her to deny it. Her jaw clenched in anger.

“I fell for a man with more honor than you possess. He didn’t tell me my brother was dead to try and force me to marry him.”

Jed’s eyes widened, and then narrowed with anger.

“You left me no choice. Women are too foolish to make the right decision.”

“The right decision?” Caroline’s voice rose. “I’m not a child. I’m capable of deciding who I should marry.”

“As I see it won’t be me, I’ll ask you to return the ring.” Relief filled her as she retrieved it from the parlor.

Returning, she said, “I could never marry someone who cared so little for my feelings that he would deliberately cause me pain.”

“You should talk. How do you think James will feel if he does come home? He’d rather be dead than know you’ve fallen for a Yankee.” Jed turned abruptly and strode away, leaving Caroline to her thoughts.

Until now, she had not considered James’s reaction to her relationship with Nate. The James she knew before the war would have cared for her happiness. Had the war changed James the way it had Jed?

She shivered. How would she manage if there were conflict between the men she loved? She shook these thoughts aside, deciding to deal with them later. She had managed to rid herself of Jed. For the moment, she must be content with that success.

Still, as the week drew to a close, an uneasiness that she could not shake grew within her. Nerves, she told herself. And exhaustion from long hours in the fields. She breathed deeply of the fresh spring air. It carried the promise of newness and change. Though she received little information, Nate had told her of Sherman’s march through Georgia. The war could not last forever. Of that, she was grateful.

****

The next week, the Union troops received news that the war had ended. The celebration in the headquarters of the jail complex contrasted sharply with the dismal mood of the town. The faces of the people reflected the pain of giving so much only to face the bitterness of defeat.

Nate sensed the mood as he patrolled the darkened main street. Still, he didn’t expect any trouble. Like folks most places, they resented the presence of the army. Yet, the majority were law abiding and stayed inside after the curfew. Still, he kept a cautious watch.

Lieutenant Weaver, who had the nine o’clock patrol had not returned, leaving Nate the double duty of finding him. He carried a lantern with him, calling Weaver’s name as he passed the shops and saloons. Weaver didn’t answer. Nate continued on toward the livery stable at the end of town. If he didn’t find Weaver there, he would have to retrace his steps.

As far as Nate knew, Weaver didn’t have any friends among the citizens. That being the case, there was still one place a man might turn to for company. Though the saloon was closed and dark, some of the men succumbed to the lure of an occasional saloon girl standing outside.

Nate grimaced. He did not relish the prospect of searching the top floor for an errant officer. He could hardly wait until such military duties would be behind him.

In two weeks he would be discharged. Before he met Caroline, the thought would have given him comfort. He would have headed west with eager anticipation. Now, his heart felt torn between his desire to go west and his love for Caroline. She would not leave the plantation to go to ruin if James did not return. So he made the only decision possible.

He would give up his dream and stay here to marry Caroline if she were willing to bear the disapproval of her neighbors. He would work the fields for her and make the plantation everything it had been before.

His heart throbbed at giving up the dream he had held for so long. He disliked being an unwelcome presence among people who treated him with quiet disdain.

Yet, now that he knew Caroline, he would sooner stop breathing than go on without her. If only James would return. Now that the war had ended, they would know soon if he were coming back. If he did, perhaps Nate might convince Caroline to marry and start off together on a journey west.

He frowned, wondering if she loved him enough to give up her home. As a descendant of generations reared and buried there, Caroline loved the plantation with a fierce devotion. Could she love him more?

He brushed the doubt aside as he drew near the livery. Time to concentrate on business. He shone the lantern along the side of the building and paused, staring hard into the dim alley. A pair of boots, pants, a shirt.... A man lay on the ground.

Nate knew at once the man was Weaver. He held the lantern over the sergeant and saw the bullet wound in his back. He turned him over and examined him, finding he’d been dead for at least an hour. Anger burned in his veins.

Someday soon, a wife and mother would learn of his death, not a death in war, but cold-blooded murder. Was this how it was to be? They could be picked off, shot in the back, the way the coward had shot his men in the woods.

He clenched his fist, determined to find out who had killed these soldiers. He covered Weaver with his jacket and then left the alley to report back to headquarters and fetch a horse for the sergeant’s body.

He kept to the shadows near the buildings, realizing that whoever killed Weaver could be hiding along the way. Nate knew too well that he could be the next target before he ever heard the bullet coming. The hair rose on the back of his neck. He walked faster, more afraid of losing a life with Caroline than he was of death. He reached the heavy jailhouse door and shivered as he stepped inside. News of Weaver’s death drew a crowd of men. Shock held them silent until the Colonel issued orders for a four man patrol to collect the body. As he headed the patrol, Nate scanned the unpitying store fronts that lined the main street.

Occasional lanes led away to houses with white picket fences. Someone surely knew who was responsible for murdering these men. Would their loyalty to the cause and to one another allow them to live with such a secret? His heart felt heavy at the thought of settling where such hatred was tolerated.

Now that the war was ended, perhaps the hatred would fade. If not, bearing it would be the price he would pay for loving Caroline. Thoughts of her dark eyes and gentle smile cheered him. He would ride out on Saturday and tell her the news of the South’s surrender.

When Saturday came at last, she flew out to meet him, her smile pushing thoughts of the murders to the back of his mind. Anticipation of her happiness at the news filled his veins. He alit from his horse and handed Andrew the reins before embracing them both. “It’s over. We got word of the signing last week in Appomattox. The war’s over.”

Gran stood in the doorway. “Praise the Lord. Now our boys’ll be comin’ home.”

Caroline’s eyes filled with tears. “A year ago, I would have been devastated, bitter for the loss. Now, all I can think about is getting on with our lives.”

He shook his head. “I wish everybody felt that way. We lost a man last week to a murdering coward who shot him in the back. Seems someone’s determined to clear us out of town even though the war’s supposed to be over.”

Caroline’s eyes filled with fear. “Someone shot him in the back? How horrid. Promise to be careful, Nate.”

His gaze moved from her sweet lips to her frown-puckered brow. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I mentioned it to see if you’d heard any rumors about who it might be.”

She shook her head. “There’s so much hatred. It could be almost anyone.” She remembered the hostility on Jed’s face and wondered if he knew who committed the murders. If he did, he wasn’t likely to tell her.

Nate nodded. “You’re right. When I look at the faces of some of these people, I know they blame us for everything they’ve suffered. They forget that we’ve seen death and suffering, too, and we didn’t fire the first shot. Yet, when we catch the man who shot our officer, he’ll face the firing squad, and these people will hate us all the more.”

Caroline didn’t feel like debating who started the war. She knew he was right about the town people. They might disagree with shooting a man in the back. Even so, many would be sympathetic to violent feelings against those who had invaded their town.

Nate opened the saddle bag and removed a small bag of flour, sugar and coffee. Caroline’s mouth watered at the thought of real coffee to replace the depleted supply of dried yams.

She took Nate’s arm. “Thank you. You have perfect timing. We were out of sugar and nearly out of flour. Tonight, we’ll celebrate the end of the war with coffee after dinner.”

She felt sure he’d paid a premium for these supplies.

Andrew hurried off to brush down the horse, visibly upset by the conversation about the slain soldiers. Caroline knew he’d been torn, as she had been, by loyalty to James and the Confederacy, and Nate whom they’d come to love. She brushed her concern for Andrew aside. Now that the war was over, everything would be all right. They could put their conflicts behind them and get on with life.

At supper, Andrew barely touched his food. The cake Gran had baked with the sugar and flour Nate brought did little to tempt his appetite. He badgered Nate with questions about the murders until Caroline said, “It’s morbid to dwell on such things. I’m sure Nate’s told you all he knows.”

Though Andrew bit back his questions, his obsession had dampened Caroline’s mood.

When they’d retired to the parlor for coffee, she said to Nate, “You could have been one of those men. Do you think whoever is doing this will kill again?”

“I’m sure they’d like to try. The Colonel ordered our patrols to go out in armed groups. I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble.”

Caroline’s brow puckered with concern. “I hope not. Still, I won’t be able to keep from worrying.” He ran a hand gently down her cheek.

“Nothing will keep me from coming safely back to you. I want to marry you, to take care of you always.”

She reached to clasp his warm hand against her cheek. “I want that, too. With the war over, we can build a new life together. I’ve always dreamed of marrying right here in the parlor.”

Nate swallowed hard. “We can marry in the parlor, but I hope you’ll consider moving west with me if we’re not needed on the plantation. Would you go with me?”

Caroline dropped her gaze. “I should think we would be needed here.”

“Not if James returns. He’ll want to run the plantation as he sees fit. We’ll be free to start a new life.”

Caroline turned away. “I’ve liked my life here. I’ve never craved a new life.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know, dear, but it might be best to go where no one cares that I’m a Yankee and you’re from the South.”

“Perhaps.” She didn’t want to continue this difficult conversation, so before he could comment, she began to prattle. “I’m coming to town on Monday morning. It’s been ever so long since I’m seen my best friend. We may be sisters someday. She and James were courting when he left. Perhaps I’ll see you while I’m in town.”

He frowned at the change of subject. Nonetheless, he thankfully let talk of moving drop.

Instead he said, “It would be best if we weren’t seen together. Tell me where you’ll be, and I’ll try to ride by while you’re there.”

Caroline obliged by giving him directions to Mary’s house. He was right not to give the town any more to talk about. She would hope for the chance to see him as he rode by and know he was still safe from the assassin’s bullet.

When she arrived at Mary’s home, just off Main Street, she stopped the buggy. She turned to Andrew who’d felt grown-up being allowed to drive. “After you hitch the team you can go to the store and buy a piece of candy. Meet me back here at ten o’clock.”

She fished a nickel she’d been saving for staples from her purse. Since Nate had brought a gift of sugar and flour, she felt she could allow a small splurge for candy. It had been a very long time since Andrew had been to town and longer since they had been able to afford such a treat.

Andrew accepted the gift with a grin, and remembering his manners, helped her from the buggy. While he hitched the team to the post outside the white picket fence, she walked up the flag stone path to Mary’s door. Through the cut glass, she could see Mary enter the hall. She grinned broadly when she saw Caroline, and then flung open the door and embraced Caroline tightly.

“Why, Caroline. It is good to see you. It’s been a long time. How have you been doing out there?”

“We’ve been fine, Mary. How’s everyone here?”

“Papa and I are fine, but Mama has been feeling unwell.”

Mary’s mother had been feeling “unwell” for as long as Caroline could remember. It seemed most likely she enjoyed the attention.

“I hope she feels better soon.” Caroline felt at home in the familiar parlor with the chestnut horsehair sofa and organ decorated with handsome scroll work.

As they sat down, a frown creased Mary’s pale brow. Her blue eyes grew serious. A blush touched her cheeks as she asked, “How have you been managing? I pray every day that James will come home. I didn’t get to see the last list.”

“He’s not on it. I’m sure he’ll be coming home soon.” Caroline put as much conviction in her voice as she could muster.

Mary played with the lace on her handkerchief, glancing up at Caroline several times, and then lowering her lids. She seemed to be deciding what to say.

Finally, she blurted out, “A terrible rumor has been started about you, dear, that you’ve taken up with a Yankee soldier. Melanie told me that Melinda said Jed had seen him with you. Surely there’s some mistake.”

Mary’s blue eyes fixed fast to Caroline’s face. Caroline swallowed over the lump that rose in her throat. How would she make her understand? She took a deep breath, and launched into the story, beginning with finding Nate wounded in the yard.

When she finished Mary’s eyes were round as saucers. “It was noble of you to nurse him, yet surely you don’t plan to keep seeing him. Not after all the Yankees have done to us.”

Caroline stared at Mary’s soft pale hand, comparing it to her own work hardened and sun browned fingers. Her ire rose. “If anyone knows what it is to suffer at the hands of the Yankees, it’s those of us on plantations. If we haven’t been burned out, we’re left to put in acres of cotton by the sweat of our brow. Yet, if it hadn’t been for Nate, I wouldn’t have got that cotton planted and we would have starved next winter.”

Mary sighed. “I’m sorry to make you angry. It’s all so confusing. I’m used to thinking of the Yankees as enemies. It’s hard to imagine one that is not.” She laid her hand across Caroline’s arm. “I only want to see you happy. You’ve always been so pretty, you could pick from any of our men who return from the war. Remember all the balls we’ve gone to together? You always had your dance card filled. Settling for a Yankee could make you a social outcast.”

Caroline raised her chin. “What I won’t settle for is marrying a man I don’t love because of what people will say. If it embarrasses you, I’ll stay away.”

Mary gave her curls a hard shake. “Oh, no. I could never think badly of you no matter what people say.”

She clasped Caroline’s arm. “Just promise you’ll give this careful thought. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise.”

Talk turned to town news. Mary’s father owned the general store. The influx of soldiers had helped him prosper. Caroline kindly resisted pointing out that the people, such as her father, who might criticize her for befriending Nate were not too proud to take money from the Yankees.

As though on cue, Mary’s mother interrupted their visit at ten o’clock with the ringing of her bell. Mary sighed, “I’d better see what she needs. More than likely, she’s just bored.”

“I’ve got to go anyway. I told Andrew to meet me outside for the trip home. I’ll send word when I hear from James.”

Leaving Mary to tend to her mother, Caroline walked out to meet Andrew. She paused at the end of the walk and scanned the tree-lined street. He was nowhere to be seen. Five minutes passed, then ten. She sighed in annoyance. She’d given him a morning off work and a treat as well. He’d repaid the reward by leaving her standing beside the buggy.

She climbed onto the seat, deciding to drive toward the store and possibly spot him along the way. The streets bustled with people, though few acknowledged her. She longed to see Nate. Though she’d positioned herself to have a view of the street through Mary’s parlor window, she had not seen him ride by. She fought back her fear for his safety.

She reached a narrow alley beside the store. Three boys bolted across the street in front of the buggy, nearly unsettling the horses. She glanced down the alley to see what had sent them rushing carelessly into the street. One boy lay on the ground. Heart in her throat, Caroline recognized Andrew, wiping his sleeve across a bloodied nose. A Yankee soldier knelt over him.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER NINE

She scrambled from the buggy as Nate helped Andrew to his feet. Their eyes locked over Andrew’s head. The boy’s torn shirt and bloody nose sparked her protective instinct. “What happened?”

Nate shook his head. “I saw some kids scuffling in the alley. One of them was Andrew. I’m afraid he was outnumbered.”

Caroline fished a handkerchief from her purse and pressed it to Andrew’s nose. “Why did you get into a fight with those boys?”

“They forced me into the alley when I came out of the store. They said they’d show me what happens to Yankee lovers. They held me and started punching, but I got an arm free and gave one of them a bloody lip.”

Tears filled his eyes, vying with his pride at defending himself. He thrust a fist to swipe angrily at the tears. “As soon as I’m old enough, I’m leaving this town. I’m going west, like you, Nate.”

The talk of going west annoyed Caroline. “Hush, now. Silly dreams won’t help you right now.”

She took his arm and steered him toward the buggy. Nate walked beside them. He took her elbow. “Those boys didn’t start that talk about you and Andrew. Someone’s feeding it to this town.”

She pressed her lips tightly. “I know. It’s Jed. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he put those boys up to fighting Andrew. Mary warned me of the ill feelings against us. But what can I do? I can’t deny we know you.”

Misery shone from Nate’s blue eyes. “Maybe I should stay away for awhile. I don’t want to put you and Andrew in danger.”

Caroline sat taut in the buggy. Anger churned her stomach. Would she have to give up the only man she’d ever loved to have peace with her neighbors? She stared at Nate, disappointed he would suggest a separation, even for her own good.

“That’s not a very courageous solution. Still, I suppose it would be best, considering the situation. I do thank you for stopping the fight.”

She drove away, head high, yet heart aching from the fate that had caused Nate to be a Yankee instead of a Confederate. Tears rolled down her cheeks by the time she reached the road that led out of town.

Andrew glanced over. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I didn’t mean to get in a fight.”

She forced a smile. “I’m not angry with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

They rode in silence, passing neighbors’ fields of cotton and alfalfa. Puffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky, promising an afternoon shower to nourish the growing crops. Graceful oaks arched over the road like protective parasols, giving respite from the warmth of the sun. On any other morning, Caroline would have enjoyed the drive.

Today, a cloud of confusion filled her mind, blocking out the pleasant calls of birds and sights of fine horses out to graze. She ignored the sights and sounds that had comforted her since childhood, feeling she had lost her place in this peaceful order of life.

When they reached home, she told Gran what had happened. After Caroline had sponged off Andrew’s wounds, she plodded to her room to change from her town dress to a faded blue work frock. She sank onto the bed, weary with strain. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she reached for the Bible on the bedside table.

Seeking comfort, she opened it to Psalm 34. Nate had carved the number of a verse on the back of the wooden dove. She ran her finger to verse four. “I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.”

Fear. Yes, she knew fear. The war had caused her to face fears she’d never imagined, losing the social acceptance she’d taken for granted, the safety of her family. She bit her lip, her heart crying to accept the comfort of God’s word. She sank to the floor beside the bed, her hands folded in prayer.

“Lord, things are such a mess. I don’t know how you can deliver us, but I pray that you will. I’m trusting that you’ll find a solution, even though I don’t see any. Like Job, even though you may slay me, I will trust in you.”

She rose from the floor and splashed her face with cool water from the basin. Then, feeling better, she went down to lunch.

Gran cast her a worried glance. “I suspect hard feelings are going to last a long time. Many people don’t understand the situation with you and Nate.”

“No they don’t understand.” She eyed Andrew with concern. Though his face bore no sign of the blood and grime that covered it earlier, he sported a swollen lip and a bruise under one eye.

He slumped in his chair, toying with the stew Gran set before them. Caroline touched his chin lightly, bringing his troubled gaze to meet her own. She sighed and said, “I’m sorry for what happened. It’s my fault for letting Jed believe there could be something between us. He’s dreadfully jealous. Still, I never dreamed he’d spread talk that he knew would hurt us.”

Andrew licked his sore lip and winced.

“It’s not your fault. Jed’s worse than you think. He’s...” He paused, as though debating whether to continue.

Caroline leaned forward disquieted by whatever was on his mind. Her attention shifted as Gran turned from the window to announce. “There’s a Confederate soldier coming up the drive, looking mighty weary. I believe we’ll be seeing plenty of them coming hungry and tired on their way home.”

Caroline stood and peered out the window. The man limped forward on his way toward the house. Though he dragged one leg, his pace quickened as he rounded the curve of magnolias that ended at the edge of the lawn.

Caroline frowned. He was familiar. A neighbor? She squinted, her heartbeat quickening. His dark beard, which covered his neck, needed a trim. Yet, his gaunt appearance and ragged clothes could not hide the bond of blood they shared.

She gave a soft cry as her hand flew to her throat. “James.”

Gran squinted her dim eyes, “Now, dear, don’t go getting your hopes set.”

Andrew’s wide eyes followed her as she spun and dashed from the room. The sound of his footsteps fell close behind her as she reached the front door. She flung it open and paused breathlessly on the veranda. The soldier grinned at her from the bottom of the steps. Eyes the same dark shade as her own lit with greeting.

“It’s good to be home, Caroline.”

“James!” His name exploded from her throat. “It really is you.”

He laughed as Caroline and Andrew nearly crushed him in a hug. “I’ve been walking in the heat so long I’m surprised your nose would let you get within a mile of me.”

Caroline pulled back to look at the tired lines on his face. “You must be exhausted. Come in and have some food and a drink.”

She turned to Andrew. “Go pull up the jug of cold buttermilk from the well and bring it inside.”

Gran dabbed her eyes as Caroline assisted James up the steps. “It is good to have you home, James.”

James flashed Gran a smile. “Thank you, Gran. There were times I wondered if I’d ever see all of you again.”

Caroline frowned. “What happened to your leg?”

“Caught part of a cannon. I’m afraid the doc couldn’t get out all the little pieces or get the shattered bone to set just right. I’ll have this limp all my life, but at least I have my leg. I saw...” he trailed off. “No. I won’t tell you about the horrors I saw. You’ve been so brave to hold things together here. I worried I’d come back and find us burned out.”

“The Lord’s been watching over us,” Gran interjected.

James nodded. “I’m glad of that. I wasn’t a praying man before I left, but I said my share of prayers when the cannon balls were flying and I thought of my family here at home.”

After he washed at the basin, Gran set a bowl of stew and a generous wedge of cornbread before him. Andrew returned with the buttermilk, watching with satisfaction as James closed his eyes with pleasure as he took a large draught.

“Ohh, that was good. I haven’t eaten like this in a long time.”

Caroline blinked back tears, thinking of what he must have suffered to think this simple fare such a feast. In times of plenty, they had eaten two meats, a table full of vegetables and cobblers and pie for dessert.

James poked at the vegetable in the stew. “You must have a good garden this year.”

Caroline nodded. “We’ll have enough to can for winter. We put in acres of cotton, too. You can see it later when you’ve had a rest.”

James sat down his fork. “You got the cotton in by yourselves? I don’t know how you managed.”

“We couldn’t have done it without...” Andrew piped.

Caroline jostled him to silence. This was not the way she wanted to introduce Nate’s existence to James.

“Would you like more cornbread?” She asked quickly.

James shook his head. “Better not. My stomach’s already more filled than I’m used to.”

He studied Andrew. “You get in a fight?

Andrew nodded. “Some guys jumped me when I left the store.”

“Why?”

“Well, they said...” He paused, glancing at Caroline.

She jumped in quickly. “They’re a bunch of town kids, sticking together. You know how kids can be. Their parents should be ashamed.”

Before he could ask any more questions she added, “I saw an old friend of yours. She wanted to know if we’d had word of you. She seemed quite anxious.”

The flush that crept into James’s gaunt cheeks made Caroline smile. “Mary. I got her letters often at first. Then, it was hard to get mail. How is she doing? Is she well?”

“She’s very well. Her father’s store is doing brisk business now that the war is over.”

James frowned. “No doubt it’s largely because of all the Yankee soldiers in town. It’s enough to lose a war without having to live under martial law. I’d be glad to never set eyes on a blue uniform again.”

Caroline swallowed hard. How could she tell him her heart had betrayed her? She had not intended to fall in love with a Yankee, would never have invited one into their house. Yet the simple deed of restoring Nate’s health had led to both.

She shivered as she remembered the words Jed had flung at her. He’d said James would rather be dead than know she’d fallen for a Yankee. She prayed with all her heart it would not be so.

****

Nate’s boots scraped along the wooden sidewalk on the way to the livery to get the horse he’d had re-shod. He pushed past a man dressed in a loose striped suit. Gaudy rings adorned the man’s hands as he gestured in emphasis to the young lady who clung on his arm. Nate shook his head. The carpetbaggers had arrived like buzzards ready to feast on the spoils. Their loud talk and flamboyant dress set them apart from the plainly dressed town folk.

Folks Nate recognized as old blood turned away and crossed the street to keep from brushing against the offensive newcomers. Nate understood their feelings about men who would buy cheap what hungry folk could not afford to keep.

Clouds that had taken all day to build opened into a lazy summer shower. Bodies crowded along the sidewalks to keep out of the mud that splashed from the wheels of buggies. He stepped past an uncovered alley and back to the sidewalk. A man stood with a group of ex-slaves promising them wealth if they invested their new earnings with him. Nate snorted in disgust. The atmosphere of the town depressed him. Like a carnival in a grave yard, the prosperity seekers came in callous disrespect to the mood of the town. People had united during the war, lifting each other’s morale. Now with spirits low, they stuck together to disdain the carpetbaggers and Yankees. And woe to anyone who broke the rank.

He winced at the memory of Andrew’s bruised face. My fault. My fault... Every step of his boot seemed to beat out the rhythm. He could have prevented the position he had put them in. He could have resisted his attraction to Caroline. He might have let stand the barrier that had separated them. When his wound had healed, he could have ridden away, with no one the wiser about the kindness Caroline had shown him.

Instead, he’d let his selfish attraction rule his heart. He had wanted to love her and have her return his love. Yet, what kind of love would separate Caroline from the social support that had governed her life? The accusation on her face when she’d seen Andrew, bruised and cut from the fight, haunted him. He longed to hold her tightly and kiss away all the pain and confusion, to promise that they could live in their own world where no fist or snub could ever hurt them again.

Yet, if they married and stayed here, he knew they’d live their lives under a shadow of disapproval. He stomped through the mud to the door of the livery. The familiar smell of horseflesh and feed, leather and polish, brought a measure of comfort.

Dave, arms thick as young trees, was bent beside a horse, finishing a job. Nate thought sourly that the army had brought the livery owners a great deal of business. Perhaps, in the depths of their loyal hearts, some business men would miss them more than they would like to admit.

Dave straightened. “Afternoon, Lieutenant. Raining still?” His soft drawl washed over Nate, making him wonder how much this young man resented returning from Gettysburg with a patch over one eye.

Nate nodded. “The rain’s good for the crops.” He thought of the rows of cotton he’d helped Caroline plant. Those rows would need a lot of hoeing to keep out the weeds that sprang incessantly from the fertile ground. He’d planned to ride out on his next leave to attack whatever had sprung up in his absence. The uncertainty that he would be welcome grew in his mind like those very weeds multiplying near the cotton.

Maybe Caroline had decided she was out of her senses to consider marrying a Yankee. Maybe her trip to town and her visit with her friend had convinced her she’d acted out of loneliness.

Dave nodded toward a stall. “Your horse is over there.”

Nate fetched the horse and inspected the job. Satisfied, he reached in his pocket to pay Dave. Dave watched him closely. He accepted the money and said, “Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but I’m going to because you seem a decent sort of guy.”

Nate frowned, puzzled.

“You have a family back home?”

Nate nodded.

“Any sisters?”

“I’ve got four sisters.”

“How would you feel if you came home and found one of them fixing to marry a Confederate?” Nate stiffened, seeing the angle of the conversation.

“I’d want her happiness enough to look beyond the division of war and see we’re all God’s children when it comes down to it.”

Dave ran a dirty hand through his pale hair. “Well you’re more Christian in your outlook than many around here. There’s talk a lady’s honor is at stake if she crosses over the line by allowing you to come courting. I’m thinking it’s nobody’s business but her own, but there are others who don’t think that way.”

Nate raised his eyebrows as Dave’s gaze shifted away. “What else have you heard?”

“That you’ve got to be taught a lesson if you think you can court a Southern belle.”

“Who’s going to teach me this lesson?”

“Can’t rightly say. Just thought you ought to be warned. I don’t take with jumping a fellow when he’s outnumbered.”

The hair rose on the back of Nate’s neck. So that was it. Men were waiting for a chance to jump him, beat him senseless, or worse. He would have to be especially careful if he did ride out to see Caroline.

He clapped a hand on Dave’s arm. “Thanks. It was decent of you to warn me.”

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle as Nate led the horse across the muddy livery yard and onto the street. He glanced at a group of officers coming out after supper at the hotel. The strong presence of the Union army safeguarded him in the streets of town. No one would be fool enough to jump him in view of a group of soldiers. A shot cracked behind him.

In the first moment of shock, Nate’s blood ran cold, thinking the shot was meant for him and wondering if he’d been hit. He stared at the frozen street scene and the confused faces. The lieutenant across the street went down, falling against the other officers. A woman screamed as men bent over the fallen man. Nate took a step toward them, and then paused.

As his senses thawed, he began to think. He could do the most good by finding the gunman. The shot came from behind him at the saloon. He threw his reins across the hitching post and smashed through the doors, gun drawn. In the heat of late afternoon, he wasn’t surprised to find the bar room crowded. The heavy-set bar keeper stood behind the counter, regarding Nate with eyes too small for his fleshy face.

“Get you a drink, Lieutenant?”

Nate ignored the question. He kept his back to the door as his eyes roved the seated men, tensed and watching for any sudden movement. Civilians were not allowed to carry weapons. Yet, someone had defied the rules and escaped detection.

He backed toward the stairs. “Who fired that shot?”

Silence bathed the room. His hand shook with anger. “Not having the courage to identify a cold-blooded murderer makes all of you just as guilty.”

Bending low, he wheeled and darted up the stairs. On the landing he came face to face with the man who had served as sheriff. Caroline had called him Jed. A girl clung to his arm.

Nate pointed the pistol into the man’s chest. “Turn around.”

Jed turned around. Nate searched him for a weapon but found nothing.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, there’s a problem. Someone shot an officer. Where have you been?”

The hatred in the man’s eyes belied the smile that curled his lips. “Why, I’ve been keeping company with Mandy.”

He turned toward the girl, “Haven’t I sweetheart?”

“You sure have,” she simpered, hanging onto his sleeve.

Nate didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust anyone. Still, without a weapon, he had no evidence.

“Get downstairs,” he ordered. The pair sauntered placidly down the stairs.

Nate called down to a group of soldiers who’d entered the saloon. “Search everybody downstairs, then come up here.”

When the search downstairs proved fruitless, they searched each room upstairs. No potential hiding place revealed a weapon. Still, Nate insisted on covering the rooms again and again. The Lieutenant had taken a bullet in the forehead. Whoever had shot him was a good shot, someone who would shoot again.

At last, although he felt sure the shot came from the saloon, even Nate had to admit defeat. The weapon had either been smuggled out or been too well hidden to find. Feeling defeated, he walked back to headquarters. Two more men murdered. Who would be next?

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER TEN

Caroline kept her patience, not disturbing James until he had washed up, rested, and trimmed his beard. At last, he came downstairs looking like a gaunt version of the handsome brother she remembered. His loss of weight could be cured by Gran’s cooking. The limp, however, seemed destined to be a permanent reminder of his time in battle.

At supper, he quizzed Caroline about Mary. “She asked about me?”

Caroline smiled. “She did. She was worried when the letters stopped. We all were.” He nodded, bending his dark head over his supper.

“I was sorry when mail got too hard to deliver. I missed the letters from home.”

Caroline caught her lip between her teeth. So much had happened while he was away. She longed to tell him how Jed had lied in order to try and force her into marriage. Yet she dared not do so. James would surely confront him, leading Jed to break the news about Nate. She wanted to pick a time to broach the subject gently. It would have to be soon. If Jed did not tell James, Mary would surely do so. Mary had a heart of gold. Yet, she could never keep a secret. Caroline would have to tell James about Nate before he went to see Mary.

“When will you go calling?”

He frowned. “I don’t know. I’d love to hitch the buggy first thing in the morning and go to town. But I’m afraid I’d get there and find she’s changed her mind. She’s waited at home, pretty as ever. I’ve come home damaged.”

He stretched his injured leg.

Caroline frowned. “Having you come home with a limp is the least of her worry. Not when we’ve been praying you’d come home any way at all. I don’t think you men have any idea how hard it is to stay home and wait, and worry.” She thought of Nate’s danger. No doubt, his family was also praying for his safe return.

James thin cheeks flushed. “Of course you’re right. I’m thinking of myself and not how she’s been feeling. And what of you? Who’s safe return have you been praying about?”

Andrew and Gran had been quiet through supper. Gran drew a sharp breath. Caroline glanced at Andrew. His eyes were round with concern. She felt their tension as they awaited her answer.

“Why, you, of course.”

She turned to Gran. “Shall we have dessert?”

James had no intent of letting her off so easy. His dark eyes held an impish light. “I haven’t taken leave of my memory and forgotten that your dance card was filled at every ball. There must be someone you’ve been missing.”

Caroline swallowed hard. The truth would surely surprise him. She missed a Yankee officer so much that her throat ached at the thought of him. Her heart pained at how she had left him in the alley as his eyes begged her not to blame him for Andrew’s fight. Yet she had driven away, absorbed in self-pity. She released the breath she’d been holding.

“Unlike your Mary, I have no Confederate gentlemen I’m considering for marriage.”

James accepted a piece of pie. “Now that the war’s over, we’ll see who comes calling.”

After supper, he limped out to inspect the fields. He whistled softly. “How did you manage to get so much done without hiring help?”

“Andrew worked hard. You should have seen the way he learned to plow and harrow.” She eased her guilty conscience by reminding herself that it was the partial truth.

Andrew grinned from ear to ear before going off to chase an old barn cat that wandered into the field.

James squatted to inspect a thriving plant. “Crop looks good. Aren’t enough plants to let us live extravagantly, but we should make enough for food and taxes. That’s more than I expected since I’d been thinking I’d get back too late to plant and we’d have no cash crop at all.”

He rubbed the soil between his fingers. “I’ve missed seeing this black earth sprout clouds of cotton. When I was laid up with my leg, all I could think about was getting back home to see my family and touch the land.”

Caroline stared down at his dark head. A lump rose in her throat. His appreciation of the rich earth reminded her of how much Nate longed to find a good farm. He’d shared his dreams with her as he lay recovering. He wanted to pick out fertile acres, virgin land, not far from a sure source of water. He wanted to work the land with his own hands, coaxing it to bear the bounty that he longed to produce.

She watched James finger the land that had been in her family for generations. Such was the dynasty Nate longed to create. Yet, from the depth of his love, he had been willing to sacrifice his dream. Her conscience stung with the knowledge that she did not feel the same unselfish devotion. She loved Nate. Of this she felt no doubt.

Still, the thought of going west terrified her too much to consider. She would have to make him see that they could find happiness here. If he didn’t want to live at the main house, when money allowed, they could build a pretty little house a short distance away. They could raise their children in civilization with the culture and comforts she had been given.

She frowned with uncertainty as she remembered Andrew’s fight. Would her children find acceptance? Surely hard feelings would dissolve before they grew old enough to be shut out of society.

She didn’t realize she’d been frowning until James touched her arm. She looked up to see him studying her.

“Is something wrong?”

“I was wondering how long the hard feelings against the Yankees would last. How long will it be before we can all live in peace?”

James sighed. “From the stories I heard on the way home, it’s going to be a long time. They’ve moved in, pushing their ways on us, and buying up what they’ve got no right to own. I’d as soon live near a bunch of skunks. It makes my blood boil. You know, Caroline, we’re lucky to be able to hang onto our home instead of having it bought up for taxes.”

Caroline grimaced at his words, wondering how he’d feel if he knew a Yankee had helped him keep his home. Would his pride or his gratitude win out? Unsure of the answer, she kept her mouth shut.

She called to Andrew, her heart heavy as they turned away from the neatly growing crops. She should have been perfectly content on this peaceful summer evening to know that her brothers were safe and her home intact. Yet the secret she was keeping weighed heavy on her mind.

“Lord, help me know how to tell James about Nate. Smooth the way for me somehow,” she silently prayed.

The crimson sunset cast a rosy glow across the porch, bathing Gran in its gentle light. She rose from the sturdy rocker in which she’d been doing the mending. “There’s cold buttermilk sitting on the table.”

James grinned at Andrew. Years fell away from his face as he challenged, “Race you for it.”

Andrew dashed off as James limped along behind.

Caroline found them tussling on the porch. “I’m too tired for milk. I’m going up to bed.”

Gran appraised her closely. “You feel alright?”

“I’m fine. I just need some time alone.” She closed the door to her room and picked up the little dove Nate had carved. It felt cool in her hands as she rubbed its smooth surface. It reminded her of his love and concern for her spiritual well-being.

With a sigh she set it back on her dressing table. She longed for the peace the dove symbolized. Yet her mind felt far from peaceful. Part of her heart longed to give over to God and pray, “Thy will be done.” Yet, another part of her firmly resisted. What if God asked her to give up her home and move west with Nate?

A tear slid down her cheek. She couldn’t do that. Not even for God. She undressed quickly and slipped between sheets that were still warm from the day’s heat. Only the faintest breeze stirred the lacy curtains that parted to reveal a sky that had turned from crimson to ebony. For the first time in many nights, she had skipped her nightly Bible reading. Instead, she lay with arms crossed atop her chest. Rebellion welled in her heart. God couldn’t tell her what she didn’t want to hear if she didn’t listen.

And she didn’t intend to listen.

It seemed she had just drifted to sleep when she heard loud voices below her in the yard. She rushed to the window, her heart hammering in her chest. Three horses, carrying men with lit torches, stamped below the window. The torches illuminated the white sheets the men wore over their heads and shoulders. Caroline shuddered at the grotesque effect.

The man in the middle spotted her and called up, “You come down right now and nobody gets hurt.”

She recognized his voice and her heart leapt to her throat. What could Jed mean by coming here under cover of the night with torches and demands? As she hesitated, he waved the torch dangerously close to the rails of the veranda. “The Yankees learned these old homes burn quickly.”

“Wait. I’m coming down.” She grabbed the dress she’d cast aside when she climbed into bed and pulled it over her head. Every instinct told her to hurry and persuade Jed to abandon whatever he planned to do. Even so, proper breeding would never allow her to rush down in her nightclothes. She only prayed he would wait until she got there instead of torching their veranda.

Of the occupied bedrooms, only hers faced the front of the house. Since no one else had stirred, she supposed they’d slept through the initial commotion. She groped her way down the dark stairs and flung open the front door. She took a deep breath, summoning her courage as she faced the three men.

“I don’t know who your two friends are, but you needn’t cover your face, Jed Mason. I know it’s you.”

“How perceptive you are, my dear. A woman should know her future husband’s voice.”

Her knees felt so weak she nearly stumbled. “I haven’t agreed to marry you.”

The sheet nodded. “Quite true. Whether you marry me as a respectable woman would or live in sin is your own choice. Either way you’re coming with me tonight. If you come peaceably, I’ll let your house stand. Put up a fuss and you’ll see it burn to the ground.”

“My family’s in there!”

“That would be a shame to have them die in the fire. Yet, I suppose it would be your own fault, now wouldn’t it?”

Her body shook with rage and fear. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not going to sit idle while you scandalize yourself with some Yankee soldier. And if you think anyone from town will come to your rescue, you’re wrong. You’re disgracing all of us. Not a single soul would blame me for stopping you.”

She found it unnerving to stare into holes that revealed dark shadows where his eyes should be. “What I do with my life has nothing to do with this town or with you. You don’t own me, and you have no say in what I do.”

“You’re wrong there. I had great respect for your Pa and I’m not going to let you disgrace your family name. But since you continue to argue, you leave me no choice.”

He leaned toward the pillar that supported the roof. Her blood froze in her veins.

“No!”

She heard quick steps behind her. Andrew appeared, hoisting the rifle he’d pulled from the mantle.

“Leave my sister alone or I’ll shoot.”

She gasped, as she watched him steady the heavy gun, torn between the relief of rescue and the fear of Jed’s response. Jed made a move to get off his horse.

“Now Andrew, you give me that gun or something bad’s going to happen. You don’t want to see your house burn down, do you?”

The gun wavered. “No.”

You just let your sister come with us, and we’ll leave you in peace.”

The rifle steadied. “No.”

Jed held the torch close to the veranda. “You won’t shoot me, Andrew.”

“Yes, I will.”

The sheeted head turned to face Caroline. “You can stop all this before someone gets hurt.”

She saw Jed’s hand move surreptitiously toward a gun strapped on his hip. She stepped in front of Andrew. Whatever happened she must not let any harm come to Andrew.

James’s voice came from behind them. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“It’s Jed,” she whispered. The confusion on his face tore at Caroline’s heart. Perhaps, if she had told him how Jed had changed, he would not look pale from shock.

He stepped forward. “Jed? What do you mean by this, threatening to burn the house of a brother Confederate?”

Jed stepped back. “James, nobody told me you were back from the war.”

James scowled. “I just got back. I heard what you said. Is this how you repay our years of friendship? Take off that stupid sheet and face me like a man.”

Jed threw off his head covering, while his companions remained covered like muted ghosts. A nervous twitch tugged at his cheek. “I was only trying to make your sister see reason. Of course, I’d never burn you out. Tell Andrew to put down that gun.”

“Give me the rifle, Andrew.” James reached for the gun.

Andrew stepped away, clutching it stubbornly. “He’ll shoot us in the back.”

Jed’s eyes spit fire. “You think I’d shoot a Confederate in the back? You better watch what you say, boy.”

“Hand me the gun,” James repeated. This time Andrew complied.

James lowered the gun while pinning Jed with a penetrating stare. “I want to know what this is about.”

“You better ask your sister. I asked her to marry me. But she thinks a Yankee soldier is better than one of her own kind. That’s why I came here tonight. I wanted to stop her before it was too late.”

James’s frown rested on Caroline.

Her heart pounded. This was not the way she’d planned to raise the subject with James.

“A Yankee soldier?” James repeated the phrase as though turning it over in his mind.

Jed’s face flushed with agitation. “She allowed him to court her, scandalized the whole town. Now that you’re back I can rest, knowing you’ll have the sense to put a stop to it.”

James stared at Caroline. “Is this true?”

She looked away, unwilling to discuss anything about Nate in front of Jed. She bit her lip, determined to ignore the eyes that rested upon her.

James turned back to Jed. “If you brought something to my attention that I need to know, I thank you. But don’t ever come on my land again with either threats or torches.”

Jed shook his head. “I never would have come tonight if I’d known you were back. You make Caroline see sense, and we can still be brothers like we’ve always been.”

With that, Jed wheeled his horse. Flanked by the others, he rode away. Caroline watched them go, feeling stunned and frozen now that the danger had passed. She clutched the solid carved post, her knees too shaky to support her. What would have happened if James had not been home?

He ruffled Andrew’s hair. “You were brave out here, defending our place. Now you best get upstairs and get some sleep.”

Andrew hesitated, his shadow small against the white veranda. “Do you think he’ll come back for you, Caroline?”

She heard the worry in his voice and answered, “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t want you to have to go with him, ever.”

She bit her lip, touched by her young brother’s sensitivity to her feelings.

“Don’t worry, Andrew. Jed can’t hold me against my will.” She shivered, knowing that was precisely what he had meant to do.

“Now, off to bed,” James repeated as he gently grasped Caroline’s wrist. “Caroline and I have some things to discuss. “

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Two days later, Caroline sat in the parlor with her brothers and Nate, stunned by Andrew’s latest confession. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Hoping to bring him back to his senses she said, “Andrew, stop it right now. I know how angry you are with Jed. But Nate is right. You can’t make such accusations without proof.”

“I saw it. I was in the woods. He shot Nate first, then the others. He thought they were dead. He started to leave. Then he saw me. I thought he was going to kill me, too, but he made me promise not to tell, instead.” James grasped Andrew roughly by the shoulder.

“Stop it. It wasn’t Jed. He wouldn’t do such a thing. You must have seen someone else.” Caroline’s mind replayed the day Nate was shot. Andrew had been in the woods. He had come home late and refused to tell her why he seemed upset. Suddenly it all made sense. She grasped James’s arm.

“Andrew was in the woods that day. If he says he saw it, then he did. Jed’s changed since you’ve been gone. I can believe he would do it.”

Pale yet resolute, Andrew turned to Nate, determined to rid himself of the entire weight he carried.

“You must hate me for not telling, but Jed told me if I did, he’d tell the Yankees I killed those men. They’d come here and...” He squeezed his eyes shut. “They’d hurt Caroline and do terrible things before they killed us and burned the house.”

Nate knelt beside the boy. “I don’t hate you, Andrew. What a heavy burden you’ve carried. I wouldn’t have let the Yankee soldiers burn your house.”

Andrew nodded. “I found that out when that Yankee came here and tried to kill us. I almost told, but I was afraid of Jed. I knew he’d kill me if I did.”

James leaned forward. “There was another Yankee in the house?”

Caroline nodded. “He was a deserter. He would have killed us all if Nate hadn’t been here.” She shivered at the memory.

James studied Nate. “It seems I owe you gratitude for more than just planting our cotton.”

Nate fixed James with a level look. “I’m very fond of Caroline, Gran, and Andrew. I wouldn’t have let them be harmed.”

“I see that now.” James looked away, his clouded expression giving evidence of the battle waging in his mind.

Nate turned to squint at Andrew. “I remember seeing a boy just before I passed out. I’d forgotten. Now that you’ve admitted being there, I remember you.”

Andrew hung his head. “I didn’t mean to leave you injured. I thought everyone was dead.”

Nate grimaced. “Fortunately, so did Jed. Would you be willing to testify before a military court to what you saw?”

Andrew flinched, yet asked, “Would it keep Jed from shooting anyone else?”

Nate nodded. “I could arrest him today.”

Andrew set his jaw. “I’ll do it.”

Caroline blinked back tears at the manly courage in her little brother’s face. She was not the only one whose character had been strengthened by meeting Nate. He had the effect of forcing those he knew to exercise the best within them.

She glanced at James. As he met her eyes, she pitied his struggle to dislike Nate. She had experienced the same struggle. And lost.

Nate turned to James. “Will you allow him to testify?”

James spread his hands, misery written on his face. “Jed and I were old friends. Yet, after what Andrew has said, I have no choice.”

Nate nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “All these weeks I’ve longed to face the coward who ambushed us. Now, I find I’ve stood face to face with him and let him walk away.”

He jammed his hat onto his head as he turned to leave. “This time he won’t walk away.”

Caroline clutched his arm. Her heart raced at his questioning gaze. She swallowed over the lump of fear in her throat. “Please be careful. Remember he has a gun.”

He managed a smile. His strong fingers closed over her hand. “God saved me from Jed’s bullet for a reason. I don’t suppose He’ll let anything happen to me now.”

Caroline watched him ride off, wondering how the town would react to the arrest of a sheriff. Would they be as shocked as James? Betrayal in a friend was not easy to accept. Pity filled her heart at the pain on her brother’s face.

He pushed up from his chair. “I’m going for a walk.”

She let him go, sensing he needed to be alone. How disappointed he must be. He had needed to believe in the dependability of southern honor.

****

Nate rode hard to get back to town. Hair prickling on the back of his neck, he handed over his horse to a soldier to cool and curry. He prayed that Jed’s bullet would not find him before he told the captain what he had learned.

He closed the heavy oak door of the jail behind him and felt safe at last. Cool and dim after his ride beneath the unrelenting sun, it felt like a sanctuary. Only a few months ago, Jed served as the law enforcement here. He sat at the desk in this very room. Now, he had become a mockery to the justice he had enforced.

The captain greeted him. Nate took a chair and drew a deep breath before relaying what Andrew had told him. The captain’s face drained of color.

“Take two men and arrest Mr. Mason. I’ll set a hearing date, and you can fetch the little boy in to testify.” Nate nodded.

Dismissed, he gathered two soldiers and headed for the saloon where Jed frequently squandered his family inheritance. The streets bustled with activity. Carpetbaggers arrived daily, crowding the streets and sidewalks. Already, a new hotel had sprung up to accommodate the newcomers. Their money funded the hammers that were erecting a new saloon and a new dry goods store.

Nate wove among the crowd. If he were fortunate, he would find Jed before Jed found him. The crowd in the saloon looked up as the three men entered. The barkeeper stiffened. The hot anger in his eyes looked as though it could melt ice in the glasses.

Nate scanned the room. He saw Jed with a group of men at a back table. Restraining his anger, he let his training steer him to caution. He placed his hand on his pistol. His men drew weapons. Together they moved to the back of the saloon.

Jed glanced up. His insolent eyes raked Nate. “Why it’s Lieutenant Sikes with his henchmen.” His voice, slightly thick from whisky, held sarcasm.

He gestured to the two men beside him. “These are my deputies, sir. What brings us the pleasure of your company?”

“You’re under arrest. Stand up and raise your arms.”

Jed’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. “Arrest? Why would you arrest me?”

“For the murder of my men.” Jed’s face paled.

“You’ve no proof of that.”

“I’ve got a witness. Now get to your feet.” He jerked Jed up by the front of his shirt.

His men stirred to assist him.

“Give us half a reason and we’ll shoot you,” Nate warned.

The men froze at the sight of the drawn weapons.

Jed protested to Nate’s search. “I’m not armed.”

“You have been. And recently.” To his disappointment, Jed carried no weapon. He nudged Jed forward. “You’re going to jail.”

Every eye in the saloon watched them march toward the door. They stepped from a silence so deep that Nate imagined everyone was holding their breath, into the bustle of the street.

There, they drew more stares, though neither concern nor curiosity could stretch deep enough to allow the townsmen to speak to the Yankee soldiers. At the door to the jail, Jed flung a warning over his shoulder.

“You’ll never keep me here. The town will never stand for it.”

Nate nudged him through the doorway. “They will when they know what you’ve done.”

Even after Jed was booked into the jail, Nate found his taut muscles could not relax. The anger he felt when arresting Jed had nearly overwhelmed him, convincing him that, if he had drawn his weapon, he would have been tempted to use it.

He glanced at his paperwork. He had become responsible for its completion after the death of the two other officers. Additional men were to be sent from Charleston, but hadn’t arrived yet. Until then, he would have to put aside his growing impatience with his job as he awaited his discharge.

By dinnertime, he’d finished the paperwork. He welcomed the chance to leave the prisoner under guard and head to the hotel for supper. He looked forward to a chance to relax from the afternoon and dream of the future.

The captain caught Nate at the door. He clapped a sturdy hand upon his shoulder. “How about joining me for supper? I’d like us to have a talk.”

Nate disliked the thought of having his evening alone interrupted. He knew what the captain wished to discuss. Though nothing he could say would change Nate’s mind, politeness and lack of other plans dictated he accept the invitation.

They settled at a table at the Sutter House Hotel. Rich velvet tapestry the shade of dark wine hung at the long windows. What was once equally fine carpet, had worn bare with traffic. Yet from the size of the crowd at this early supper hour, Nate felt sure the owners would be able to replace the carpet soon. For some proprietors, the lean war years were giving way to mounting profits.

The captain gave his order to the young man who waited their table. Nate did likewise, and then settled back for the captain’s expected lecture.

“I wanted to try one last time to talk sense into you. You could have a fine career in the military, son. We won’t be stationed here forever. We’ll be assigned back north. You could have a comfortable living instead of getting yourself killed out west.”

“I don’t mean any disrespect for a military career, sir, but going west has been my dream as long as I can remember.”

The captain leaned across the white linen tablecloth. “I have a brother went west. His wife nearly went mad in camp each night having to listen to the coyotes.”

He shook his head. “They’re back in Boston now.”

Nate frowned, hating to hear of failed dreams. He listened as the captain said, “I hear you have a young lady you’re courting. These southern women are not as hardy as our own. How do you expect to take a southern girl west?”

Nate met the captain’s insistent blue eyes. “I believe she would go west more willingly than north, sir.”

The captain blinked. Surprise, then understanding, played across his solid features.

He sighed, admitting, “I suppose you’re right. You can’t go there and you can’t stay here. Still, you have to think of your future. If the girl doesn’t marry you, where will you be then?”

“Farming my own land, where I’ve always wanted to be.”

The captain sighed. “You’re a born leader son. I hate to see potential wasted.”

He spent their meal giving Nate every reason he could think of to stay in the army. And, by the end of the meal, he’d not changed Nate’s mind. As they stood on the hotel porch, he clapped Nate’s shoulder.

“As much as I’d like you to stay, I know you’ll do the right thing. You always do.”

Nate watched the older man walk back to the jail. He bore the dignified stance of a man who deserved respect. Nate gave it gladly. While some commanders permitted atrocities toward the people they conquered, this captain had not.

Nate headed the opposite direction, needing a walk around town to clear his mind. He hoped, with Jed in jail, the evening outing would be safer for both him and the captain.

****

Caroline sat on the porch churning butter when James returned from his walk. One look at his face told her he still struggled with disillusionment. It had been so easy to believe the South was good and always right and the North was bad and wrong. She sighed, wishing for words to comfort him.

She spoke softly. “It’s hard to face imperfections in the people and causes we’ve believed in. There’s good even in our enemies and bad in some of our friends.”

His forehead creased into a familiar frown. “I suppose I’ve been a bad judge of character. Jed proved that. So I suppose I’ve no right to judge your lieutenant. Still, I can’t sanction your marriage to a Yankee. Not when he wants to take you west. The weight of your safety would rest on my conscience. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it.”

His voice choked. His eyes held the passion of his conviction. His assumed authority ruffled her pride. She opened her mouth to assure him she would do as she felt best. Yet the words would not come. It would torture her conscience forever to leave James feeling as he did. Faith assured her that God would find a way. He would clear a path that even James would see as best for her.

She touched his arm. “It’s alright. I won’t insist on running off if you think it’s wrong. Instead, I’ll pray that if it is God’s will, He’ll touch both our hearts to see it.”

His Adam’s apple rose. He swallowed hard and nodded mutely. He smoothed her hair the way Pa had done when he was alive. “I want what’s best for you.”

“I know you do.”

“Andrew and I best get back to work.”

Caroline nodded, then watched him limp away.

****

The next morning, she looked up from the garden to see Nate riding up the path. She smoothed the skirt of her summer calico and brushed aside the stray tendrils of hair that had escaped her bonnet. She tried to remember that it might be business about Jed that brought him and not a trip to see her.

She faced him, forcing a trembling smile. His arm around her waist eased her distress. “Morning, Caroline. I walked around town all last night thinking about you.”

Her heartbeat quickened with delight. Many beaux had made such comments. Yet they had never gladdened her heart the way Nate did. She was amused to hear herself ask what any Southern belle would have said.

“And what did you think about me?”

“That you’re beautiful, and I miss you each time we’re apart.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks. She looked into his sky blue eyes and knew she had no desire to toy with his devotion. “I miss you, too. I hate it when we’re apart.”

For a moment, neither spoke, but the intimacy dissolved as Gran called from the porch. “Is that Nate? Ask him in for tea, dear.”

Caroline pulled off her gloves. “Would you like tea?”

Nate grinned. “Only if I can sit in the parlor with you.”

After Caroline brought in the tea, Nate became serious. “Two officers arrived early this morning to take over for the two that were killed. Along with the captain, they’ll be the jury for Jed’s trial. Captain set a date a week from today.”

Caroline drew a sharp breath. The reality of what Jed had done and what he would face suddenly hit her. She set down her tea cup to prevent her shaking fingers from spilling it. “Will he face a firing squad?”

“If he’s found guilty.”

Her mind jumped back to the time when Jed was a lanky boy coming for visits. “He wasn’t always like this,” she said softly.

Nate placed a square hand atop her own. “I know. Still, he chose the path he took, to live by the sword, so to speak. And to reap his own violence.”

He lifted her chin to meet her eyes. “I want to talk about us. I get my discharge after the trial. I’ll be going west as soon as I can get some supplies in order.”

Caroline felt a vise-like tightening in her throat. “So soon?”

“What else can I do? I have no work here.”

“I just hoped...” The words faded away.

“That we’d find a way to live here? We’ve been through this before. I don’t see how we’d ever be able to live in peace.”

Caroline lowered her eyes. “I wish there was more time.”

“I know. Still, I doubt time will make this decision any easier.” He sounded sympathetic.

Caroline did not reply.

“I’ll need to know in a couple of weeks if I’m buying supplies for one or two.”

Her heart lurched at the hopeful tone in his voice. Unable to answer, she stared at her hands. The seconds ticked by. She sensed his disappointment as he stood and reached for his hat.

“I’d better be going. Thanks for the tea.”

She rose quickly. “Please. Come back as soon as you can.”

“I wonder if that will only make things more painful for us.”

She bit her lip and he turned away. The merriment with which he’d greeted her was gone. The light had left his eyes. She watched him from the porch as he mounted. She longed to rush out and stop him, to beg for more time. But he had already told her she must decide soon. Time hung like an enemy clutched tight to her back as she trudged back to the garden.

She hoed with the unconscious rhythm of a ticking clock, each minute drawing her closer to a decision that would affect the rest of her life.

Fragile Dreams

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER TWELVE

Caroline slept fitfully, dreaming of Andrew surrounded by a multitude of Yankee soldiers. They shouted questions, closing about her brother until she could no longer see him. Awakened by her pounding heart, she realized she had not been willing to admit how anxious she felt about Andrew’s testimony. He had agreed so bravely that she had felt the need to be brave, too. Yet, how would he feel when he sat alone on a witness stand with Jed facing him?

A rosy streak stained the sky, announcing its mistress, the sun. Fully awake, Caroline swung her feet out of bed, enjoying the feel of the cool, smooth floor. Soon the summer heat would fill the room, making it uncomfortably warm.

She pulled open the great mahogany wardrobe and studied the myriad of dresses. She sighed. So useless now were the ball gowns which hung behind the more practical day dresses. She had attended only one ball during the war. Since then, the gowns had hung untouched while her day dresses grew faded and frayed. As soon as they sold the cotton, she would buy material and make some new clothes.

She bit her lip, knowing she would not take pleasure in new dresses if Nate weren’t here to see them.

She dressed, and then stole down the stairs. The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen, telling her Gran was up.

Gran faced her with a quizzical brow. “You’re up early.”

“I had disturbing dreams.”

“James did, too. He’s been out there on the porch since before I started the coffee.”

Caroline accepted a steaming cup from Gran, more out of habit than a desire to drink anything warm, and while Gran turned to the task of fixing breakfast, Caroline crossed the oak floor to the French doors that led to the back veranda. She could see James through the picture windows, sitting on the porch swing, his own cup of coffee in hand.

He looked up as Caroline stepped outside. “I remember when you were a little girl. We’d get dressed and come out here barefooted first thing in the morning. We’d walk in the dewy grass until Mother caught us and made us put on our shoes.”

Caroline smiled. “I remember. It never seemed to hurt us, though it did get Mother in quite a fuss. Looking back it seems a harmless way to experiment with the forbidden. I wish I could have remembered those times when I’ve lost patience with Andrew.”

“He’s a good boy. Pa would be proud of the way you’ve managed him while I was gone.”

Talk of Pa brought tears to Caroline’s eyes. She wondered what he would think if he knew she was considering leaving. Would he understand how it rent her heart?

James leaned forward, cup still in hand. He scanned the green lawns and magnolias. “I love this place. When I was far away and facing death, I longed for nothing more than to sit on this porch like I am right now. It was a terrible feeling to want it so much and be so far away. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Caroline’s eyes trailed along the gardens. “I love our home, too. I’ve never been one to long for danger or adventure. Perhaps that’s why I’m being forced to consider it.”

James gave her a quick look, but no reply. They sat a moment in silence before he changed the subject. “I’m going into town for a few supplies to mend the barn. Do you want to come?”

Caroline shook her head. “I’ll wait until we sell the cotton and have money for cloth. We’ll all be needing clothes.”

James cleared his throat. “I’ll stay in town for lunch. I have an invitation.”

Caroline smiled. “Mary?”

Color crept up James’s neck.

She laughed. “You needn’t be so secretive. Mary’s my best friend. I’m pleased you’re courting her.”

From his lack of reply, Caroline knew he felt bad he couldn’t say the same for her choice of a beau.

He finished the last of his coffee. “Smells like Gran has breakfast ready. I’ve already milked the cows. Have Andrew take them to pasture.”

Caroline nodded, thinking of the tiny herd they’d managed to keep from selling. Only five years ago they’d had dozens to provide milk and cheese and meat. She preceded her brother into the house.

He accepted a plate of breakfast from Gran and said, “The cotton’s nearly ready for picking. While I’m in town, I’ll see who I can find to help with the work.”

Caroline chewed her lip, knowing they wouldn’t be able to afford much help, but unwilling to bring up again the suggestion that she help.

Andrew appeared, sleepy-eyed, just after James left for town. She knew she should have been firm and roused him sooner. He would get a late start on his chores. Yet, if he’d felt as unsettled by the last few days as she had, he needed his rest.

“Take the cows to pasture and don’t forget to close the gate,” she cautioned. “I’m going out to look over the cotton.”

She grabbed her bonnet and gloves, and set out across the back lawn, enjoying the freedom from tasks that awaited her inside the house. The dragonflies that buzzed across her path reminded her of lazy days of childhood when she’d been free from worries and had few things to decide for herself.

She trod past the rows of cotton, grateful that the rain had come in season and the bolls were splitting to reveal their fluffy contents. Her spirits lifted as she walked among plants that extended as far as she could see. Picking this much cotton would surely be back-breaking work. James would need her help, whether he wanted it or not. But they would have a good crop. And they could pay their taxes and other debts.

Her conscience convicted her that she’d left Gran with too much of the housework. She had no excuse to be outdoors other than the urge for a walk. She reminded herself that, during picking time, she would soon see all the outdoors she’d like.

On the way back to the house she noticed an open pasture gate. The cows grazed nearby. Her temper flared, as she organized the lecture she’d give Andrew when she got back to the house. His carelessness could have allowed the cows to stray out of the pasture to munch the flowers and vegetables near the house.

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. Caroline 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?”

Andrew nodded. He pointed to Jed.

The colonel studied Andrew gravely. “That’s all, young man. You may rejoin your family.”

He turned to Jed. “Mr. Mason, have you anything to say in your defense?”

Jed lurched toward Andrew, only to be restrained by his guards.

“It’s all a lie. Caroline and the Yankee made it up so people would think bad of me instead of them.”

The colonel stroked his chin. “Miss Ashcroft, would you be willing to take the witness chair?”

Caroline felt as though her heart had stopped. Legs trembling, she came forward.

“Did Mr. Mason ever make any threats toward our officers?”

Caroline licked her dry lips. “Yes, he said they’d be sorry they came here.”

“And was he wearing a weapon on the night he threatened to burn your house?”

Yes.”

“You may be excused.”

Caroline avoided Jed’s eyes as she returned to her seat.

After questioning Nate about what he could remember about the shooting, the officers huddled in deliberation. They reached a verdict in less than fifteen minutes. The colonel cleared his throat. He folded his hands.

Wearing a solemn expression, he faced Jed. “Our court finds you guilty, Mr. Mason. We sentence you to justice by firing squad tomorrow at sunrise. I suggest you make peace with your Maker.”

Jed’s face, which had been hard as granite, turned pale. Though Caroline felt no doubt as to his guilt, she felt a lump rise in her throat. The war that had brought her Nate had destroyed a childhood friend.

She watched with a heavy heart as they led Jed away.

Nate placed a hand on her arm. “I’ve asked one of the men to bring the buggy to the back of the jail. You can leave without facing the crowd. It could get ugly.”

Caroline knew what she had to do. “Please, I have to see Jed. I can’t let him die without telling him the plan of salvation.”

James overheard. “I don’t know how you can face him after what he did.”

“I have to.”

Nate nodded.

“I’ll talk to the colonel.”

He returned after he secured permission.

“Would you like me to go with you?”

She shook her head. “It would be better if I went alone.”

One of the guards unlocked the door and led Caroline to the block of cells.

Jed sat inside, head in his hands. He looked up as the guard unlocked the cell door.

Caroline stepped inside. The guard cast a dour look at Jed and touched Caroline on the elbow. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

The hatred had gone from Jed’s eyes, replaced by glazed disbelief. “I never meant for things to turn out like they did. I never wanted to hurt you or Andrew. I sent Dobbs and Nelson to scare Andrew out of testifying. I felt bad they came back, telling me he was dead.”

Caroline shivered, remembering the last time she’d seen the white-hooded deputies riding beside Jed.

She swallowed hard. “For awhile we thought he might die.”

Jed lowered his eyes. “Dobbs and Nelson are clear out of the county by now, but I want you to know I’m sorry for what happened. I know you can’t forgive me for everything I’ve done, but I want you to know I did love you.”

Caroline breathed deeply, stilling her mind and pushing aside all the hurt and anger Jed had caused.

“I do forgive you. More importantly, God will forgive you, too.”

Jed gave a derisive snort. “It’s too late for that.”

“The Bible tells us God forgave David for arranging the death of Bath-Sheba’s husband. If you repent and give your life to the Lord, even now you can be forgiven.”

Jed sat quietly.

“We’ve all fallen short of the glory of God. Still, God allows us to escape the penalty of the law by giving our lives to Jesus and accepting what He’s done for us. Can you do that, Jed?”

His eyes drew to her face. She saw tears clinging to his lashes. “Maybe later. When I’m alone.”

She bit her lip, accepting his wishes. “I’ll pray for you.”

He took the hand she offered, his fingers so cold they made her shiver, reminding her of death. The understanding that her mission was over filled her with an urge to escape the dismal cell.

“Good-bye, Jed.”

She did not look back as she left. She had done all she could. The remainder rested with Jed.

She met the others at the back door. Nate helped her into the buggy. He stood staring up at her. “I want you to know I don’t take any pleasure in seeing this man die. It’s only justice I want.”

Caroline studied his honest face. “I know. That’s why I love you.”

They sped away, leaving Caroline to remember the concern on Nate’s face and the torment in Jed’s eyes.

The evening passed with little conversation as each remained consumed by sad expectation. At last, only Caroline and James sat alone in the parlor. He studied his hands.

“What Hattie said wasn’t true. This wasn’t your fault.”

Caroline frowned. “That hardly seems to matter. The bitterness toward this family will not end as long as I stay here.”

He surprised her by nodding. “I’ve been thinking hard the last few days. I saw so much misery in the war. I began to feel the only safety was to put myself in control. I wanted to keep you and Andrew safe and protected.”

Caroline opened her mouth to sympathize. He held up his hand to stop her. “When I saw you kneeling beside Andrew and saw the trust you had in God’s providence, I realized I’m not in control of anyone’s life. Only God is. Go west if that’s where God calls you. Your destiny and protection lie in His hands.”

She felt her doubts melt away. “You can’t know how I’ve struggled between my desire to stay here and my longing to be with Nate. I’ve been praying if it was right to go, you’d come to peace with the idea. I feel sure that God has answered me.”

He studied her with earnest sea-green eyes that reminded her of their Pa. “I want you to be happy. I’m sorry my fears nearly caused you to lose a good man like Nate.”

“I guess my idea of happiness changed when God took away frivolous things I thought would make me happy, leaving me to see what was really important.”

They sat in companionable silence until they retired to bed. Caroline tossed under her light covers. The excitement of going west mingled with the anxiety of knowing Jed’s life would end when dawn arrived. Though she had despised the man he’d become, she took no comfort in his death.

She drifted off at last, only to be awakened at first light by what she thought were gunshots. She sat up with a start, heart pounding. She took a deep breath and came to her senses, realizing she lived too far from town to have heard the firing squad. Not gunshots, but the staccato sound of a horse’s hooves pounded up the drive. She looked out to see Nate dismount and hitch his horse.

She slid into a cotton dress and ran barefooted down the stairs. Gran would object to see her hurrying to meet a gentleman with her hair down and bare feet, but she must know what brought Nate so early.

She met him in the doorway. His grim expression chilled her heart. “Is it over?”

He took her hands, drawing her into the parlor. “It was over sometime during the night. Jed hanged himself in his cell.”

She gasped as she absorbed the news. He led her to the settee where she sank onto the velvet cushion.

“I presented the Gospel…” The image of what Jed had done formed a knot in her stomach.

Nate caressed her hands. “I know. Still, Jed made his own decisions, but God is merciful. You know that. You’ll have to put all of this behind you now.”

She lifted her eyes to his face. “Far behind me. I want to go west with you.”

“You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

Caroline smiled. “I’d only want a small wedding, just Gran, James, Andrew and Mary. We could be married in the parlor by our minister.”

Nate sighed, and then a smile lit across his face. “How soon could you be ready?”

“Saturday afternoon. I could wear Mother’s wedding dress, so there’s very little preparation.”

Stirrings in the house told them the others were arising.

Nate cocked an eyebrow. “Shall we tell them?”

Caroline’s heart felt as though it would burst with excitement. “Why not?”

The rest of the week seemed a blur of packing and sewing for her trousseau. Storage would be tight on the wagon for the trip west. Still, Caroline wanted to arrive at her new home with the basic necessities.

Saturday morning, Gran helped Caroline pile her dark hair atop her head and don the satin and pearl wedding dress.

The white layered cake sat iced atop the table, and all was ready when Nate and the pastor arrived.

Caroline took James’s arm and walked down the long stairs and into the parlor where Nate awaited, splendid in a black suit. His eyes shone in azure approval as she entered the room.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

She blushed under the veil.

Mary took her bouquet of roses as the ceremony began. Looking into Nate’s eyes, she had no second thoughts as she repeated the vows and accepted the simple gold band that would accompany her into her new life.

After the ceremony, Mary caught her arm. Tears glistened in her eyes.

“I’m so happy for you. I’m only sorry you won’t be here to be matron of honor for my wedding.”

Caroline bit her lip. She was glad she would not be here to put Mary in an awkward position. Mary was too loyal to think of shunning her. Yet her mother would want a lavish church wedding with invitations for nearly everyone in town. With feelings running the way they were, Caroline knew her presence could ruin what should be the happiest day of Mary’s life.

Caroline hugged her tightly. “I’ll think of you on your wedding day and pray for your happiness.”

They wiped away tears as James enclosed them both in his arms. “I hope these are tears of joy and not a reflection of your feelings about marriage.”

Caroline laughed as Mary swatted playfully at his arm.

After cake and good wishes, they spent the afternoon trying to comfort a pouting Andrew, who wished to head west on their adventure.

At Caroline’s request, they spent the night in her room, the last night she would spend on her beloved plantation. The next day they planned to head north to visit Nate’s family for a final good-bye.

She awoke after dawn, surprised to find Nate’s warm body curled next to her. As her memory flooded back, she brushed back a strand of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. Still aware of the comforting sound of his even breathing, she crept from bed to peer out the window.

She drank in the scent of flowers and grass, magnolias and honeysuckle. She studied the stately oaks and verdant grasses, heard the robin calling to his mate. She wanted to remember, with all of her senses, all that she loved—to be able to recall it at will. She would miss the dogwood when it bloomed next spring and the endless fields of cotton when the brief flowers appeared. She hoped she would find a similar joy in the unique scenery of the west.

Her attention focused on her memories so completely that she did not hear Nate stir until she felt his warm arms around her.

“It is a beautiful view. I can see why you love it here. I hope you’ll be happy in the west. I want you to be happy always.”

She snuggled deeper into his arms. “Wherever you are, I’ll be happy.”

The aroma of breakfast drew them downstairs where a feast awaited.

“Never start a trip on an empty stomach,” Gran advised.

In spite of her excitement, Caroline found she was quite hungry.

Andrew joined them, looking glum. “I don’t see why I can’t go west right now. I’m old enough to know my own mind.”

Nate wiped his mouth with a napkin. “James needs you here to get the place up and running again. If you still want to come out in a few years, you have an open invitation to come to us.”

Andrew sighed. “I’ll wait, but I won’t change my mind.”

All too soon, Caroline found herself standing beside the wagon as Nate and James loaded her trunk.

Gran wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Caroline hugged her close. She wanted to say they’d meet again. But with the miles that would separate them, she feared it was unlikely.

“I’ll miss you, too. Soon you’ll have great-grandchildren in this house. That should keep you busy.”

“That will be a blessing. But that doesn’t mean I’ll forget the granddaughter I love so much.”

Nate stood waiting beside the wagon. “All loaded.”

Caroline gave her brothers a hug, and then threw her arms around Gran for a final embrace. ““I’ll write when we reach Nate’s family.”

Nate assisted her onto the wagon. She settled in, adjusting herself to the thought that this would be her new home for several months.

Nate shook the reigns and the wagon moved forward. Caroline looked back at her family until they disappeared behind a bend in the road. She wiped the tears from her eyes and watched the familiar landmarks from her childhood slip away. And then she turned forward. There would be no more looking back as she turned her heart to the future.

Fragile Dreams

One by one, she was losing the people closest to her and perhaps, her home as well. Appealing to God had seemed about as helpful as whispering to the wind. If God chose to heap problems on her and not lift a finger to ease her distress, she wouldn’t give Him the pleasure of hearing her pray. She could look to no one but herself for decisions that would affect her future.

She stood at her bedroom window and watched the full moon slip between the clouds in an overcast sky. She breathed the comforting scent of the damp earth of her home, shivering in the chilly air as she began to unhook the tiny buttons that closed the back of her dress.

She blinked, staring hard as a dark form moved from the barn toward the pump at the old well. She held her breath as she tried to make out what had collapsed near the well and was now lying still. As the moon made a brief appearance through the layer of clouds, Caroline could see the prostrate figure of a man.

Table of Contents

Fragile Dreams

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN