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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

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BOOK: Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine
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Still, Vivianna was wise and tenderhearted.
She had not forgotten Caleb.
She would not be insensitive to his feelings.
He would be glad to see his brother returned—more than glad.
Furthermore, he knew Vivianna loved Justin.
Still, she would press
n
either Caleb into letting her go
nor Justin into affirming that he loved her as much as his letters had professed.
He was weak—tired and worn.
There was healing to be endured.
Likewise,
Savannah
, Caleb, Nate
,
and Willy would want all the time they could steal with Justin.
Vivianna knew she would need to find patience.
She would need to allow everything to settle—to begin healing.
Still, her heart beat so madly within her breast
,
she thought she might scream for not being able to beg Justin to hold her in his arms—to kiss her!


Ma

am,

Mr. Tabor began,

I ain

t fit to be sittin

at the table.
I haven

t had a bath in a good long time.

Savannah
looked to the worn soldier.
She smiled, shaking her head.

Don

t you be worryin

about that, Mr. Tabor.
We

ll get some broth in ya…see to your stomach first
. T
hen we can see to your flesh.


Thank ya,
m
a

am,

Mr. Tabor said.

But I am…I am sorry to be sittin

in your home in such a state.


You just eat that broth, Mr. Tabor,

Savannah
said, nodding toward the bowl of broth Vivianna had placed before him.

You brought my son back to me
. Y
ou could sit at my table in nothin

but your skin
,
and I wouldn

t mind it one bit.


Thank ya,
m
a

am,

Mr. Tabor mumbled.


You see he eats that broth, Viv,

Mrs. Turner instructed.


I will,

Vivianna promised, offering Mr. T
abor
the other spoon she was holding.

Savannah

s attention immediately returned to Justin, and Vivianna smiled.
It was a dream!
Justin

Justin was alive!
She gazed at him for a moment
,
butterflies swarming in her stomach as he glanced at her and smiled.
He dipped his spoon into the bowl of warm broth, sighing with obvious pleasure as he slurped the soothing liquid.

The clatter of a spoon hitting a bowl and then the table drew Vivianna

s attention to Mr. Tabor, however.
Her smile faded, and she felt a frown pucker her brow as she watched the wasted soldier struggling to pick the spoon up from the table.
He dropped it again and sighed as his weak fingers tried once more to manage it.

Vivianna frowned
,
awed by his weakened state.
Too weak to even manage to feed himself, Justin

s friend would be dead in a few days if he didn

t gain strength.

Picking up the spoon herself, Vivianna dipped it into the broth and held it close to Mr. Tabor

s mouth.
She couldn

t help but grin a little
,
slightly amused by Mr. Tabor

s obvious pride
,
for he would not look at her
,
nor would he eat from the spoon.
Rather
,
a firm expression of defiance set itself hard on his face as his brow furrowed with a deep frown born
e
of self-disgust.


You can let me feed you, Mr. Tabor,

Vivianna began,

or I

ll wrestle ya to the floor and pour this broth down your throat.
And I think you and I both know that I well could do it.

The annoyed, humiliated man glanced at her but only briefly.
He growled low in his throat but opened his mouth.
Vivianna nearly giggled
,
thinking he looked like a pouting child as he surrendered and let her spoon the broth into his mouth.
As she placed a second spoonful of broth in his mouth, Vivianna could have sworn a little color returned to his face.


Thank ya, ma

am,

Mr. Tabor mumbled
,
his trembling hand taking the spoon from hers.

I can do this.
I can.


Are ya certain?

Vivianna asked.


Yes, ma

am,

the man grumbled.

She watched as his weak and trembling hand struggled to ladle the warm broth into his mouth.
Still, it did seem he could manage feeding himself
,
and she returned her attention to Justin.


Where have you been, my darlin

?

Savannah
begged
,
her voice breaking with emotion.

We haven

t had a letter in over five months!
We were certain you were…we were reconciled to your having…oh, I can

t even speak it, Justin!
Oh, darlin

!
Why haven

t we heard from ya?

Justin

s face paled
;
what little color he did own in his cheeks fled like rain washing new paint from a canvas.

I

m sorry, Mama,

he began.

I…I…couldn

t write to ya about it…even if they had let us write.


Who, darlin

?


The guards…at
Andersonville
.

The living breath was instantly sucked from Vivianna

s lungs!
A cold, clammy dread crept over her flesh, and every inward organ began to quiver.


Andersonville
?

she breathed.
She glanced from Justin to Mr. Tabor
,
struggling to feed himself.

Andersonville
?

she breathed once more.
As tears filled her eyes, Vivianna offered another silent prayer of thanks.
If Justin and his friend had been incarcerated at Andersonville
p
rison—if the stories of torture, starvation
,
and disease rampant at
Andersonville
owned even a little truth—then it was a pure miracle the men were alive
,
let alone that they

d made it home.


Not
Andersonville
!

Savannah
wept.

Oh no, Justin!
Not that horrible place!
Not that death camp!

But Justin nodded
,
agony plain on his face.

Last November we were with General Sherman
,
after
Atlanta
and on our way to
Savannah
. A
nd me and Johnny…we were out scoutin

,

Justin began.
He paused, shaking his head and running trembling fingers over the stubble of new hair on his head.

I-I don

t even remember exactly what happened.
I just know that one minute I was sittin

my horse…and then next, I was laid out on the ground
,
bleedin

from my shoulder.

Justin nodded toward Mr. Tabor and continued,

Johnny dismounted to help me
,
and in a blink
,
he was laid out too…shot in the leg.
The Rebs came down on us hard then…drug us off to a wagon…and the wagon hauled us eight days to
Andersonville
.

Justin chuckled and shook his head again.

For two years we were the best scouts in the Alabama
First
.
Two years…ain

t that right, Johnny?
We fought hard and long and never came close to capture

not me
and certainly not Johnny Tabor.
No sirree!
Then
,
as quick as that
,
we were captured…found ourselves in
Andersonville
.


Andersonville
,

Vivianna whispered.
The pain of overpowering
sy
mpathy shook her as she watched Justin

s friend struggling to feed himself.
The stories of the horror of
Andersonville
were infamous!
Little or no shelter
,
torture at the hands of the guards
,
no food
,
filthy water
,
disease
—h
ow had they survived?


Darlin

!

Savannah
breathed, dabbing at her tears with her apron.

Andersonville
!
Nobody lived through
Andersonville
. T
hey say nobody lived through it!

Justin shrugged.

Well, not everybody had a friend like Johnny Tabor,

he said.

Johnny saved my life more times than I can count…and that was before the prison.
But let me tell you
,
if it weren

t for John
,
I wouldn

t be here with you, Mama.
I took awful sick last month
. W
inter was so cold there…and we didn

t have much food or shelter.
But ol

Johnny
,
he wasn

t about to see me give up.
I owe him my life.


Nobody owes me anything,

Mr. Tabor mumbled.

I don

t want to hear that from you, Justin.
I told you that.

Justin

s gaze fell to Vivianna.
He smiled and winked at her, and her heart fluttered as if it were a flower with petals only just caught by a sweet summer breeze.


John don

t take much to acceptin

thanks or praise,

Justin said.

He

s a cantankerous ol

boy sometimes, but don

t let that fool ya
. H
e

s a good man.

BOOK: Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine
5.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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