Love Is a Battlefield (16 page)

A tiny part of her hated him right then for choosing that particular question. Saying the words out loud was painful. But she was tired of running from the truth. And the truth was that at that moment in time, she didn't believe. She couldn't.

“Wait a minute. Let me get this straight.” He shook his head. “You were engaged to be married. You are now dating some guy you met at church. Presumably a nice guy. But yet you don't believe true love exists?”

She sighed. She should've just made up an answer. Told him what he wanted to hear. But she was tired. Tired of trying so hard to please everyone. It was time to let the ugly truth out. “Yes, I was engaged. And yes, I did love Mark. To some extent. But I never thought he was some great love of my life.”

“Then why did you agree to marry him? How could you almost spend your life with someone you didn't even consider your true love?”

She cleared her throat. “You sound like some kind of fairy tale. Life is not a fairy tale. Real love is hard and messy, and people get hurt.” she shrugged her shoulders. “I guess with Mark I just thought we were pretty compatible. We got along most of the time. We liked the same pizza toppings. So I figured we'd make it work.”

He stared at her as if she had horns growing out of the hair that she could feel getting bigger by the second. “Wait a minute. You were going to commit your life to someone based on the fact that you both liked pepperoni?”

“Pineapple, actually. And no. It wasn't based on the pizza topping. I was just using that as an example. Obviously a bad one.” she rubbed her forehead. “Don't you get it? because I don't think that fairy tale love exists, the best I can hope for is compatibility. You know?” she looked over at him. Even in the darkness, she could see that he did not understand where she was coming from.

“I don't mean to sound like some hopeless romantic, but it makes me a little sad to hear you say this.” He bit his lip. “Have you always felt this way?”

She thought back. “Maybe not always. I mean, as a little girl I was all about the fairy tales. Happily ever after and all that jazz. But somewhere along the way, I wised up. My dad left us when I was twelve. Pretty soon after that, my aunt and uncle split up. By the time we were in high school, most of my friends' parents were at least separated.” she shook her head. “Not a lot of happily-ever-after examples, you know?”

She leaned her head back against the seat. “I shouldn't have told you, I guess. Now you'll think I'm crazy.” she gazed at the drooping material on the truck ceiling and ran her fingers along the design of thumbtacks someone had used to keep the material from coming off. “Haven't you ever just thought that maybe it's all too much trouble? it shouldn't always be so hard.”

“I disagree. Anything worth having is worth fighting for. Worth the tough times. Love isn't always easy. It's not supposed to be. But true love is worth it.” He had a faraway look in his eye.

She expected him to burst out in song any minute. She had him pegged as an '80s ballad kind of guy. In fact, it was likely that in the back of his closet, there was a box of mix tapes and love letters.

“Okay. I'll concede to you that true love,
if
it existed, would be worth the hard times. But I stand by my initial answer. And I can give you all the examples you'd like. My parents. Mark and me. Brad and Jennifer. Charles and Diana. Scarlett and Rhett. Romeo and Juliet.” she ticked each couple, both real and fictional, off on her hand. “See? All couples who thought they were perfect matches. And we know how they all turned out.”

“But, Kristy. Those are just a few specific examples. I can give you plenty for the other side. And being a student of history, I'm a little ashamed of you. There are examples of great loves throughout history. They spanned wars and famines and holocausts.”

How could she argue with that?

“And I'm surprised at you, Shiloh ranger extraordinaire. One of my favorite love stories comes straight from this battlefield.”

Somehow, she knew instantly which story he was going to reference. But she didn't let on because he seemed so excited. “General William Wallace was stationed here at Shiloh in early spring of 1862. His wife, Ann, was back home in Illinois. Throughout the months, Will and Ann wrote letters back and forth, some of them quite romantic. By the time Will was in camp at Shiloh, Ann had a strange feeling. She just knew she needed to go to her husband. She sent a letter, pleading with him to allow her to make the trip to Tennessee, even though it would be dangerous. Will, ever the gentleman, was too worried for her safety. He implored her to stay put, saying he'd be home on leave soon and they'd be together.”

Kristy took in the soft expression on his face. He really was a hopeless romantic.

“But Ann was adamant. She had to see her husband and was unable to shake the feeling. She set out on the journey alone, which was nearly unheard of in that day and time. She arrived in Savannah the evening after the first day of the battle and managed to find a boat that would take her to the riverboat stationed at Shiloh, which was serving as a makeshift hospital. Once on board, she ran into her brother, who was serving in the army alongside her husband. One look into his eyes and she knew—her husband was dead. Ann was devastated. She spent the night on the boat, serving as a nurse to the wounded and dying men.”

Kristy never tired of this story. She'd read the letters over and over again and had even done a ranger program one summer based on the story. But still, she let Ace tell it. Somehow, hearing the story told from his perspective brought it to life even more.

“The next morning, before the battle began again, Will's men went back to the field to collect his body. They brought it back to the riverboat where Ann waited. She immediately ran to her husband's side once they brought his body on board, but miracle of miracles, he was still alive. Another boat came and took Ann and Will to Savannah to the Cherry Mansion. Although Will was severely wounded, he regained consciousness and was able to talk to his wife, and they were able to say their good-byes. His final words stayed with her forever and were passed down in their family through the letters Ann wrote. He grasped her hand and said, ‘We'll meet again in heaven.'”

He looked over at Kristy and smiled. “Now if that isn't a story of true love, I don't know what is.”

“Fine. It is a beautiful story, I admit. But it doesn't change things for me.”

“So you mean to tell me that you can't give me a single example of true love?”

She rolled her eyes. “Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy.”

“A nonfictional example? As in a modern-day, someone-you-actually-know example.”

“I'll think about it and get back to you.”

“Fine. And for the record, while I think there are probably a small handful of people in the world who could be my true love, I believe that God has one in particular in store for me.”

Ace was horrified. He'd never met anyone who was so jaded about love. It was odd. She wasn't bitter. It wasn't as if she gave off an anti-man vibe. In fact, she seemed pro-relationship. Just anti-true love. All that talk about just settling for someone she was compatible with. He thought all women believed in romance. It seemed that he thought wrong.

The radio on the seat between them crackled, and Owen's voice filled the silence. “Two-ten to two-fifty.”

Ace grabbed the radio and mashed the button. “Two-fifty, go ahead.”

“We can call it a night. There's been no activity anywhere that we know of.”

“Copy.” Ace laid the radio back down on the seat.

As the truck roared to life, they heard the crackling of fireworks. The big display had begun. He glanced at Kristy. “I'll try to get us out of the trees so we can at least see some of the fireworks.”

“Thanks. I've watched the fireworks over the river every year since I was a little kid. I'd hate to not see any fireworks at all tonight.”

But as it turned out, time wasn't on their side. By the time Ace pulled the truck into the parking lot, the last embers of fireworks were scattering over the river.

“I'm sorry you missed them,” he told her.

She sighed. “Oh well. Maybe next year.”

“You want me to give you a ride to your house?”

“Nah. I'll just walk.”

They got out of the truck and started off in separate directions, she toward the residential circle, and he toward the main parking lot where his Chevy waited.

“Hey,” he called.

She stopped and turned toward him. “Yeah?”

“Don't forget. You're supposed to be thinking of a modern-day example of true love.” He grinned. “I know you can do it.”

“We'll see.”

Kristy slipped on a pair of old running shorts and a Chi Beta Chi T-shirt from college. She ran a brush through her thick hair and twisted it into a bun. What a night.

“Come here, Sam.” she stepped onto the deck and held the door open for Sam.

He ran through, happy she was home. As he began his nightly ritual of circling the yard, sniffing for evidence of General Grant, the cat, or a wayward squirrel, Kristy sank into the plush cushion of the porch swing.

Ace and his questions. She was impressed that he'd known Will and Ann's story so well, though. She'd tried a million times to tell that story to Mark, and he'd always been uninterested. Even when she showed him copies of their love letters, he turned his nose up. History is history, he'd said.

And she knew she must've sounded like a major cynic to Ace. But after all she'd been through, first with her dad leaving, and then with Mark leaving her at the altar ... wasn't she just being a realist? she leaned her head back and looked at the stars. She knew they were so far away, yet there in the darkness of her backyard, they seemed so close she felt like she could reach out and grab one.

Sam barked his alert bark, and Kristy stood up.

She peeked through the slats of her fence and saw Ace's truck in her driveway. Had she left something in the truck tonight? she scooped Sam up in her arms so he wouldn't run away as she opened the gate.

“I'm back here,” she called.

She watched as he made his way to where she stood, one arm behind his back.

Ace came through the gate and closed it behind him. “Sorry to bother you. I know it's late. But it's still the Fourth of July, and there's something I think you need.”

She let Sam wriggle out of her arms. “What's that?”

He pulled something from behind his back.

For a second, she wasn't sure what it was. A bunch of little sticks, fanned out and tied together with a big red bow. She looked at him with wonder.

“It's a bouquet of sparklers.” He laughed. “Since you missed the fireworks and all.”

Before she could think of what she was doing, she grabbed him and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling back from the embrace, a little embarrassed. She wasn't usually so impulsive. “This is the best surprise I've had in a long time.” And it was.

He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and nodded his head toward the bouquet. “Pick one.”

She pulled one out and held it out to him.

He clicked the lighter, and suddenly the sparkler lit up the backyard like a shooting star.

“I haven't held a sparkler in years.” she made little zigzag motions with her hand and watched as the sparkler fizzed out.

“Aren't you supposed to write your name with it or something?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yes, I guess you are. Here, let me do two at a time. I'll write your name, too.” she plucked two more sparklers out of the bouquet and held them out for him to light.

It had definitely been a gamble, bringing her a bouquet of sparklers. But he wasn't afraid of looking stupid if it meant gleaning a smile like the one Kristy had given him when she'd seen it. The light coming from the sparklers was dim by comparison.

He watched as she twirled barefoot in the yard, writing their names in the air. Hard to believe this girl didn't think true love existed. But if he had anything to do with it, someday soon she would.

“Hold on. So you're telling me that not only did Robert bring you grilled burgers, but then Ace brought a bouquet of sparklers? On the same day?” Vickie asked incredulously.

Kristy sighed. “Yes. But you're making a much bigger deal out of it than it was.”

“Man. There's never a shortage of drama for you, is there?”

“There's no drama. Robert was being sweet. I'd be willing to bet it was his mom's idea anyway. And Ace. Well...” she trailed off. “He was just trying to make up for me missing the fireworks. I told him it was my favorite holiday and all.”

“If these were olden days, we'd say you have two suitors.” Vickie laughed. “I think it's time you faced that fact. They're obviously both crazy about you.”

“You're wrong.” Kristy took a sip of her morning coffee and glanced at the clock. She had another minute to talk before she had to leave for work. But she'd have to be careful. When she talked to Vickie or Ainsley, time slipped away from her. “Robert is a little interested. I'll give you that one. We don't have that much to say to each other, though. And Ace is just friendly. He doesn't know anyone around here. We've just spent a lot of time together lately, and as much as I like to complain about his ability to do my job, at least I can acknowledge that he's a good guy.”

“Whatever. You can tell yourself that all you want to, but I'm convinced that he sees you as more than just a coworker.” “You're right. He also sees me as his friend.”

“If you say so.” but Vickie's tone said she thought differently.

“Anyway...” Kristy was eager to change the subject. “Have you talked to Ainsley lately?”

“Yesterday. She and Brad are going to some kind of spa this weekend. Must be nice, right?”

“A spa? And he agreed to go? she really does have the perfect man, doesn't she?” Kristy asked.

“She has the perfect husband, you have two men fighting for your attention, and me? Well, I'm working late again tonight and then looking forward to the latest delivery from Netflix.”

Despite her friend's joking tone, Kristy picked up on a little sadness. Vickie was painfully shy and never dated except for the rare times she agreed to a fix-up.

“Hang in there, Vick. The right guy is probably just around the corner.”

Kristy wanted to remind Vickie that if she didn't get involved with anyone, she wouldn't end up with a broken heart. But she thought it best to spare her friend from the cynicism she'd shared with Ace the previous night.

They said their good-byes and Kristy rushed out the door.

Late again.

“If you look into this thick underbrush, you can imagine how hard it would've been to maneuver on foot. Much less on a horse. Or even worse, with an artillery piece.” Ace directed the crowd's attention to the center of the Hornet's nest. “But that's just what went on in this area. Thousands of men were concentrated here. Some of the worst fighting took place on this very spot.”

The crowd stared back at him, blank expressions on their faces. A couple standing in the back turned quietly and began walking back toward the parking area. He remembered Kristy's advice about sharing human interest stories. Worth a try.

“Of course, the thing to remember is that these were people, just like you and me. They had families waiting on them at home. They had hopes and dreams. And many of them gave their lives right here on the battlefield. The Civil War was full of stories of sacrifice.” He paused to take a breath. He hadn't lost any more visitors, so maybe he was onto something. “In this area of the battlefield, there were a couple of Union soldiers retreating from their position. One of them was hit, and he fell against his buddy. Before he died, he said one last word. The word was ‘Mama.' He was thinking about home, hundreds of miles away, as he died.” Ace noticed an older lady wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “So, ladies and gentleman, as you explore the park today, each time you see a marker, I want you to realize that they are more than just pretty monuments. They are reminders of the men who fought and died on the very spots where we stand.” He nodded at the crowd. “Thank you, and enjoy your park.”

An older couple fell in step beside him as he made his way to where the park pickup truck sat. “Thank you, young man. That was a lovely tour,” the man said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

“You sure brought the history alive,” said the lady. “I taught high school history years ago and brought my students to Shiloh every spring. But we never heard such a good talk.” she beamed at him.

He thanked them profusely and climbed into the truck. Kristy had been right on the mark about what the crowds liked to hear. Somehow, a little piece of her had begun to seep into every tour he gave.