Everlasting Light - A Civil War Romance Novella (8 page)

phenomenon—women running a war. Let’s see … they’d stab the enemy with their vicious tongues and confuse them so greatly with gossip and rumors that the opposing army wouldn’t know in which direction they were moving.”

“Oh, hush.” She glared at him. He of all people shouldn’t be poking fun at her. “For your information, I do not gossip or backbite. Not all women do, you know.”

“Then I stand corrected. Hmm, let’s see.” He tapped his jaw in thought. “Females could always render the enemy senseless with their parasols or strangle them with their lace shawls.”

Alaina squared her shoulders. “Stop mocking me.”

In the far corner of the room, Zeke chuckled softly as he spooned the soup into bowls. “You best be careful, Mistah Michael. My mama used to say ain’t no fury on God’s green earth like a woman’s.”

The corners of Michael’s eyes softened, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “I’m only teasing, Lain. Don’t be angry with me.” At last he wiped the smile off his face. “It’s just that you’re so pretty when you’re riled. Your cheeks get all rosy.” He touched the side of her face with the backs of his knuckles.

She slapped his hand away.

“I done warned you.” Zeke snorted a laugh as he brought over the bowls of soup to the table.

Alaina spotted the three bowls. “None for me, Zeke. I guess I should have been clear. I’m just not—”

Horses’ hooves pounded up to the front of the house. Alaina froze. No one had horses anymore, except for the …

“Federal soldiers!” Wild, icy fright coursed through her veins.

“Don’t panic.” Michael set his hand on her shoulder.

“What if it’s more raiders? I’m sure you heard what they did to poor Mary Baily—and then they killed her husband!”

“Shh, Lain …” He looked over her head at Zeke. “You know where my gun is.”

“Uh-huh, and I know how to use it too.”

“Good. I’ll go see what this is all about.” Michael’s gaze lit back on Alaina. “You stay inside.”

She nodded.

Zeke already clutched the rifle as Michael made his way to the front of the house. Alaina followed him as far as the door. Peeking around Zeke’s broad shoulder, she saw Michael greet two men clad in dusty blue uniforms who sat astride sleek roans.

“Shoot them, Zeke!” Alaina couldn’t keep the hate in her soul out of her tone.

“That’d be cold-blooded killin’, Miz Laina. I cain’t do that.”

“But they’ve taken so much from us. They burned our fields, our farms, looted our homes then set them on fire, killed our cattle. They murdered William, Kirk … Braeden.” Alaina fairly choked on her sudden tears. “I despise the very sight of those horrid men!”

“Look at them, Miz Laina,” Zeke answered softly. “They’s just like us. They’s lost brothers and friends too.”

Had they? Of course they must have. Until this moment, she’d seen the United States Army as some soulless killing machine.

“Not all of them’s cruel. Some’s got a conscience.”

“Hard to believe.”

“Some of them’s even Christians. Brothers in Christ.”

Alaina’s resolve all but fell to pieces. Hard as it was to believe, her spirit said Zeke spoke the truth.

“I don’t blame you for being bitter-hearted, Miz Laina, but there’s no comfort in it.”

“No … no, there’s not.” She watched Michael converse with the officers.

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” Zeke said.

Alaina recognized the passage from the Lord’s Prayer. “Is that how you cope? You forgive?”

“That’s right. But jes’ in case these men are up to no good, I got Mistah Michael’s back covered.” Zeke pointed the gun directly at the two soldiers, and his trained, dark gaze never strayed from the potentially deadly situation outside. “God doesn’t say we can’t defend ourselves.”

From what she saw going on outside, it didn’t appear the soldiers had evil intentions—this time.

“Miz Laina, I been thinkin’ it’d be just like Braeden to hear what Sherman did to poor South Carolina, and it’d be just like him to go west to Texas like most folks is doin’. He probably tried to write or wire y’all ’n’ let you know he’s alive, but with them Yankees ever’where, his messages didn’t get through no-how. But he’s got hisself a plan for him and us, and it’d be just like him to git home fer Christmas so he can tell us all ’bout it.”

“Oh, Zeke.” The misery in Alaina’s heart doubled—tripled. “I want to believe, and at times I’m sure Braeden’s alive. But how would he have ever survived, wounded and in a northern prison camp? It’s not possible.”

“Anythin’s possible, cuz with God all things is possible.”

More truth. Alaina couldn’t argue. “So you’re saying I need to forgive and believe.”

“That’s it.”

The Yankee soldiers gave their horses’ sides a hard nudge and galloped away. Zeke lowered the gun. On his way back to the house now, Michael read a parchment of some sort.

“As if I didn’t already know my tax bill is due.” He entered the cluttered foyer and grunted. “And by the first of the year? I don’t have the kind of money they’re asking for. Who does?” His gaze lit on Alaina. “The Confederate dollar is worth only a little more than one cent to the Union dollar. Who can even afford a sack of flour these days—five hundred dollars for flour? Such an atrocity!”

She knew it all too well.

“Washington is trying to break us South Carolinians because the war started here. Can’t they see we’re already broken?”

“Mercy,” Zeke muttered, shaking his dark head.

“Oh, Michael …” A little sob caught in Alaina’s throat. Forgive? Believe? But it all seemed so hopeless. She put her head in her hands.

“Now, Lain, don’t cry.” Michael pulled her against him. “Don’t cry,” he whispered against her temple. “We’ll think of something.”

“What I think is that Miz Laina gots to go home.” Zeke took a firm hold of her elbow and jerked her out of Michael’s embrace.

“Zeke?”

Anger glinted in his eyes. “I be takin’ you home right now.”

Alaina didn’t ask questions. She figured Zeke must have a good reason for behaving so strangely. Moving toward the door, she glanced at Michael and noted his curious frown.

“I’ll come back, Mistah Michael, don’ you worry,” Zeke called from the porch, guiding Alaina down the steps. “I said I’d help with rebuildin’, an’ I won’ go back on my word. But Miz Laina’s gotta go home this minute or Mistah Braeden … well, he gonna have my hide!”

Chapter 9

“Zeke! Don’t walk so fast!” Alaina couldn’t take a deep enough breath to keep up with the man’s long strides.

He slowed his pace.

“What in the world has gotten into you? And what did you mean when you said Braeden will have your hide?”

He stopped on the road and faced her. “I knowed Mistah Braeden since we was born. We got our whuppin’s together when we was bad boys. Why, we didn’ even care we were different color till Mistah Braeden went to school and someone tole him different. After a while, Mistah Braeden said he didn’ care I’s black and he’s white. And I didn’ neither.” Zeke gazed at Michael’s dilapidated home. “And I know Mistah Michael too. I know he’s Mistah Braeden’s best friend, but Braeden and me … we’s tighter than best friends. I know how Braeden thinks, and I know there’s some things he won’ share with his best friend, no how! One o’ them’s his woman. If I stood by and let that happen, I’d get mine … right after Mistah Michael got his!”

“Now, wait a minute, Zeke.” Alaina held up her hands, palms out. “Michael said he loves me and he wants to marry me. Everyone else has said Braeden is dead. Mama McKenna thinks he’s buried in a mass grave somewhere. She tells me to get on with my life and stop pining for my husband who’s never coming home. Michael’s told me the same thing.”

Zeke seemed to listen while staring off into the charred remains of woods across the road.

“For so long, I’ve been the only one who’s held onto any hope that Braeden will come home, but it’s rapidly diminishing.” Her vision blurred. “Maybe it’s true that if Braeden hasn’t come home by now, he never will.”

“Miz Laina—” Zeke’s gaze swung back to hers. “—I can’t explain how I know this, but I know Braeden ain’t dead. When I saw Mistah Michael touch you jest now, I knowed it wasn’t right, just as if Braeden could walk through a door any time and see it fer hisself. Then we’d all be in some fine trouble.”

The remark gave Alaina pause. Her husband’s possessive nature had always caused her to feel loved and cherished, although she’d never purposely provoke him to feel jealous. And what if he really was alive? Then Michael’s affection was sinful.

They began walking again, but this time at a more leisurely pace.

“Miz Laina, I think if Braeden is alive, he’ll be sure to get hisself home fer Christmas. He wouldn’ want to miss another one with his family.” A low, rumbling chuckle. “You know how Braeden always loved Christmas.”

“Yes, he did.” Alaina recalled the only Christmas she and Braeden shared as a married couple. He’d been as excited as a child, picking at the goodies his mother baked and teasing his brother Kirk about gifts, and yet the holiday’s true meaning wasn’t lost on him. Braeden had always kept his focus on the Savior’s birth and why it was so significant to mankind.

But if Braeden came home for Christmas this year, what would he find? A faithless wife who’d been self-absorbed in sorrow and bitterness? A wife who betrayed him … with his best friend?

No! Alaina wouldn’t allow anything of the kind to happen. Perhaps she’d had a right to her sadness and discouragement, but she’d given those feelings free rein for far too long.

“Zeke, tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

Forgive. Believe
. “I haven’t begun to prepare.”

“So I noticed.”

“We haven’t even cut down a tree, supposing there’s an evergreen somewhere to be felled.”

“I could look down by the swamp.”

“Would you?” A wee bit of hope sparked within her.

Zeke gave a nod.

“And we should find something to take to the neighbors. They’re in dire straits just like us. Perhaps there’s some venison left, and Mama McKenna and I could cook it up into little meals to pass out.”

“Fine idea.”

“And then, of course, there’s our own Christmas dinner to think about.” She quickened her step. “I’ve got so much to do before tomorrow.”

Zeke chuckled. “You sure do.”

Alaina made her way up to the house. If the soldiers who’d stopped by Michael’s had been at the McKenna’s home too, they’d come and gone.
Help me forgive, Father
. Oddly, the mere prayer seemed to uplift her heart.
Help me believe
.

“Mama McKenna, I just realized tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, and I haven’t done a single thing to prepare for the occasion.”

“Oh, hush, child.” The older woman looked none too pleased by the declaration. “Christmas won’t visit our home this year.”

“But—”

“How can you even think of celebrating? My sister and her husband are dead. Jennifer Marie is gone, Kirk died in battle, and Braeden … Braeden is gone too. The Yankees disposed of our cows and chickens. Our land has been depreciated by fire. These are dark times, Alaina, and all we can do is survive one day to the next as God sees fit, doing our best to accomplish what we can. But celebrate Christmas? That’s out of the question!”

“You told me to count my blessings, Mama McKenna.” Alaina cast a curious glance at her father-in-law, who sat at the dining room table with his balding head in his hands. “At least we’ve got our home.”

“Not for long.” Papa McKenna’s eyes held a vacant, defeated look. “We can’t pay our taxes.”

“No one can.”

“Is that supposed to be consolation?” Mama McKenna’s eyes flashed with

incredulity. “We’ll all be homeless. So what?”

Without depression clouding her perspective, Alaina saw just what had become of her in-laws. Once a kind gentlewoman, her mother-in-law had gotten calloused. Her father-in-law, always capable and cheerfully robust, had turned forlorn, brokenhearted.

Hadn’t they all? But it was high time to change.
God help me!

“Couldn’t we forget our suffering for the next two days? It’s Christmas, a time to celebrate the Savior’s birth. There’ll be plenty of time to fret over the tax bill after the holiday.”

The older couple glanced at each other, considering the request.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be cheerful for a couple of days.” Her mother-in-law rolled a shoulder.

Papa McKenna agreed, although grudgingly. “Grief isn’t all that easy to let go of, but I’ll try.”

“And I promise to be more hopeful.” A sense of purpose replaced the emptiness inside of her. She’d bring Christmas into the hearts of others this year, and perhaps the joy of the season would stay with them and see them through future trials.

Maybe that same joy would bring power to their prayers and guide Braeden safely home!

******

“Miz Ellie! Miz Laina! Look here what I found!”

Alaina stopped stirring the meager potato mixture, turned around, and gaped in surprise as Zeke hauled in a lanky fir. “Our Christmas tree!” She smiled.

Beside her, Mama McKenna’s jaw dropped slightly.

“An’ guess what else Mistah Jonathan and me found down by the creek?”

“I can’t guess. Tell me.” Mama McKenna appeared overwhelmed.

“A cow. A real-live milkin’ cow. Don’ know who it belongs to. Mistah Jonathan is out askin’ neighbors if’n it’s theirs. And she milks real good. Don’ look sick neither.”

“Maybe some fool Yankee turned her loose,” Mama McKenna said, “not knowing cows will die if they’re not milked.”

“Milk.” Wistfulness engulfed Alaina’s being. “I haven’t tasted milk since Mrs. Tanner brought over a pail for us months ago.”

Mama McKenna turned toward her. “Do you know what we could make if we had milk? And maybe an egg or two?”

“Cornbread.” Alaina grinned.

“Go see if Michael’s chickens laid any more eggs.”

“All right.” She wiped her hands and removed her apron. But as she moved toward the door, Zeke stood in her way, the end of the tree trunk in his wide hands.

“I best be the one goin’ to Mistah Michael’s.” A worried frown knitted his thick, black brow.