Fragile Dreams Read online

  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 wou
ld 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.

  J
ed 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.”