Healed by Grace

by Jenna Brandt

  Healed by Grace

  The Civil War Bride Series

  Jenna Brandt

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Locale and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or actual locations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email jenna@jennabrandt.com.

  Text copyright © Jenna Brandt 2020.

  Cover copyright by Jenna Brandt

  Contents

  Recap

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Also by Jenna Brandt

  Join My Mailing List and Reader’s Groups

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Praise for Jenna Brandt

  I’m always excited when I see a new book by Jenna Brandt. This very talented author can create an amazing storyline without missing a beat!

  Lori Dykes, Amazon Customer

  Jenna Brandt is, in my estimation, the most gifted author of Christian fiction in this generation!

  Paula Rose Michelson, Christian Romance Author

  Jenna Brandt writes from the heart and you can feel it in every page turned.

  Sandra Sewell White, Longtime Reader

  Jenna Brandt does a good job of pulling you in quickly and creating characters that you care about.

  Kathy Church, Advanced Reader

  I love this author - She always writes intriguing and amazing stories. She can write in any time period and owns it.

  Connie C, Longtime Reader

  Thank you Jenna Brandt for good wholesome novels that focus on Christian values.

  Anonymous Amazon Customer

  For more information about Jenna Brandt, signup for her Newsletter or visit her on any of her social media platforms:

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  Healed by Grace

  Grace Abernathy helped wounded soldiers during the American Civil War. Now that it’s over, she has to find a way to move on. Her parents think having her stay with her cousins in Myrtle Grove, South Carolina, can help her do just that. She isn’t looking for love after what she went through, but when she spends time with a returning soldier she knew from a long time ago, she wonders if he might spark a rekindling in her heart.

  Wyatt Hammond was conscripted to serve in the Confederate military. Though he only served for a few months before the war ended, the horrors he saw during that time haunt him. He isn’t sure if he can ever be happy again, until he is reunited with an old flame who has the power to heal his broken heart.

  Can Grace forget her painful past? Will Wyatt be able to let go of what he went through during the war? And what will happen when the man Grace is running from, finally catches up with her?

  Recap

  In book one and two of the Civil War Brides series, small town life is disrupted while the United States of America is torn apart by civil war.

  Faith Abernathy was set to marry, and eventually does marry, Nathan Maddox, a former spy and prisoner of war, who was miraculously rescued. They have a small farm in Myrtle Grove, South Carolina, on the edge of Faith’s family’s plantation. The aftermath of his captivity put everyone’s faith to the test, but the woman he loves along with her family and friends, helped Nathan overcome the trauma from the war.

  Hope Hammond, Faith’s best friend, along with her family, also live in Myrtle Grove on their own plantation. Her father was an officer in the military but was discharged after being injured during the war, resulting in the loss of his leg. Additionally, Hope’s only sibling, Gregory, was killed in the war shortly after her father returned home. Her father turns to alcohol to console himself, causing Hope and her mother to have to take care of the family and the plantation. Eventually, he turns back to God after a series of events that change all their lives.

  Hope and Davis are married right before he heads off to join the war effort. He plans to follow after Hope’s cousin, Dr. Wyatt Hammond, who is already serving due to conscription.

  -To Dustin-

  You’re my personal soldier.

  Thank you for fighting for us.

  Chapter 1

  Late May, 1865

  Myrtle Grove, South Carolina

  Grace Abernathy pushed back the edge of the curtain and peeked out the window of the stagecoach. Her cousins’ vaguely familiar small town of Myrtle Grove came into view. Though she hadn’t been there since she was a young girl, not much had changed since her last visit. There was the same town square, white church, and Main Street sprinkled with staple stores and one restaurant. This time, however, Grace wouldn’t be returning to her home in Charleston. Her parents had decided her stay was to be permanent in order to give her a fresh start.

  At first, Grace had been upset about the decision that had been thrust upon her. She had volunteered to help her father tend to the injured soldiers at the hospital during the war. As one of the most prestigious surgeons in all of the South, her father had saved many lives throughout his career. It had devastated him to have to take leg after leg and arm after arm due to the various bloody battles.

  “I can’t believe my life’s work has come to this. I’ve become a butcher of men,” he had lamented to her. The hollow look in his brown eyes and the wrinkles around them, told her that her father would never be the same again. “I no longer feel like I’m saving lives, but rather destroying them piece by piece.”

  Grace had survived the war, despite the ruination around her. She had believed that all the calamity was behind her, but the worst was yet to come. After what happened to her, her parents made the decision she needed to leave in order to protect her. Even though she hadn’t liked it, she knew the wisdom in it. Charleston was a shadow of its former glory—a constant reminder of a past now buried so deep it could hardly be remembered—just like Grace. Gone was the carefree young debutante, who thought her only goal was to obtain a suitable matrimonial match. It was replaced by a woman who knew all too well, that everything a person held dear could be destroyed in the blink of an eye.

  The carriage came to a stop at the stagecoach depot. A couple of moments later, the coachman came around and opened the door. As Grace stepped down, the warm spring air brushed across her face. She opened her parasol and placed it over her shoulder, shielding herself from the strong rays of the afternoon sun.

  Her aunt and uncle should be there any moment to pick her up, but even a short amount of time in direct sunlight would make Grace’s delicate cream skin burn. She’d managed to stay out of the sun during the entirety of the war; she didn’t plan on having her appearance ruined now that it was over.

  “Can I have your luggage delivered somewhere, miss?” asked a young man with black hair and a friendly grin.

  She shook her head. “You can leave my bags besi
de me. My aunt and uncle should be here soon to pick me up.”

  “Who’s your aunt and uncle, if you don’t mind me inquiring?”

  Grace pressed her lips together. She supposed it didn’t matter if she told the man. Everyone in the small town would know soon enough of her arrival. “Thomas and Tabitha Abernathy.”

  “That means you’re cousins with Faith and Davis,” the man pointed out. “I went to school with both of them. They’re good people.”

  “I agree. I’m very lucky to have such a wonderful family,” Grace acknowledged.

  “How long will you be staying?”

  Grace didn’t know how to respond. Even though the entire Abernathy family knew her stay would be with no prearranged limit, she wasn’t sure she wanted to disclose that to anyone else.

  To her relief, she heard the familiar voice of Faith beside her, keeping her from having to respond. “I can’t believe my eyes. I barely recognized you, Grace.”

  She turned to the side to find her cousin, standing next to a tall, dark-haired man. She assumed it was Faith’s husband, Nathan Maddox. Just a few steps behind them were her aunt and uncle.

  “We’re so glad you’re here,” Tabitha said, reaching out and pulling her niece into an embrace. She leaned back and added, “I see the Abernathy fair complexion still remains. With your blonde hair and green eyes, you could pass for twins with my own Faith.”

  “Twin cousins, what an odd thought,” her uncle added, coming up and patting Grace gently on the back. “But it seems to be true. It’s good to see you. How’s my brother doing?”

  “He is well, as is my mother. They send their love to all of you,” Grace said with a smile. “They wished they could have come with me, but my father is busy with the rebuilding of the hospital.”

  “We all have a lot to do to recover after the war,” Tabitha said in a weary voice. “I don’t think any of us were prepared for it. Our own plantation was nearly destroyed. I daresay, if we hadn’t—”

  “We don’t need to dwell in the past, Tabitha,” Grace’s uncle interrupted, giving his wife a look that made it clear he wanted to drop the subject. “The day is getting away from us. We should be heading back to Oak Haven before it gets dark. Let’s get this luggage loaded into the wagon,” her uncle said, gesturing to his son-in-law. “Why don’t you grab the other side of the trunk, Nathan.”

  “Where’s the rest of the family?” Grace inquired as the men made short work of loading her luggage. She looked around for her other four Abernathy cousins.

  “They’re at home waiting for us,” her aunt explained. “Believe me, they wanted to come, but it would have been complete chaos with Nancy and Jack along. I asked Ida to stay behind and watch them. As for Davis and Hope, they needed to finish up some work at their farm.”

  “You’ll just have to settle for us during the ride home,” Faith teased, looping her arm through her cousin’s. “I hope we’re enough.”

  “Always, Faith, always,” Grace said, placing her own hand over Faith’s.

  Chapter 2

  One long look around his office, and Wyatt Hammond tried to remind himself he was home where he belonged. The war was behind him, and he was ready to get back to his life as the town doctor. The problem was, everyone in Myrtle Grove continued to remind him of the time he wanted to forget. He hadn’t wanted to be featured in the article in the Daily Examiner. What he did during one of the final battles had been out of instinct, not to garner praise or recognition. Now, he was expected to play the part of the brave hero returning from the war, ready to be the beacon of pride the South wanted him to be.

  Everyone around him expected him to be okay; after all, he hadn’t sustained any physical injuries. It didn’t mean he was okay, though. Far from it; he felt broken inside due to the horrors he saw during the war. If he had his way, he would never talk about the war again, but that didn’t seem to be an option.

  “It’s good to have you home,” his Uncle Luke said, as he came inside and shut the door behind them. “We prayed for you every day while you were gone. God saw fit to bring you back to us, which I’m eternally grateful for.”

  Wyatt wanted to agree with his uncle, but part of him had a hard time accepting it. So many of his fellow soldiers died, and yet, he managed to make it out alive. He didn’t understand why, and felt immense guilt over the fact. Avoiding the subject, Wyatt moved over to his desk and took a seat behind it. He shuffled through the papers, noticing they were organized by importance. “I see Aunt Joanna did a good job of keeping everything in order while I was away.”

  “She’s a good woman like that. She came by every few days to clean and deliver your mail.”

  “I’ll have to thank her next time I see her,” Wyatt mumbled under his breath, continuing to scan through the stack of letters on his desk.

  “Tonight,” his uncle blurted out, causing Wyatt to glance up.

  “Tonight, what?” Wyatt inquired with confusion.

  “You can thank her tonight when you come over for dinner.”

  Wyatt stiffened under the invitation that was more like a command. He was exhausted, and felt like curling up with a book more than socializing. “I didn’t know we had plans.”

  His uncle’s brows furrowed together with a look of puzzlement. “We just assumed, since it’s your first night home, you would want to be with family. It won’t be just your aunt and I. Hope and Davis will be there, too.”

  “He’s back then?”

  Luke nodded. “He returned a month ago due to an injury.”

  “Is he all right?” Wyatt asked, leaning forward in his chair, concern audible in his voice. Reflexively, his hands gripped the edge of the desk, tightening with every passing second. He didn’t like not knowing the status of his close friend and cousin-in-law.

  “Davis is fine—though he has a jagged scar along his cheek now. He didn’t last long in the war. During his first battle, he was hit by a piece of shrapnel. He was lucky it didn’t cause any permanent damage.” Luke gestured to his own missing leg from the war. “He was lucky; you both were.”

  Wyatt pressed his lips together, forcing himself not to blurt out he didn’t want to be lucky, and would have preferred to die with honor like the other men in his regiment. Instead, he was being celebrated as a war hero for saving a singular man, the only other survivor from his unit.

  “Everyone is looking forward to seeing you,” his uncle explained. “We’ll be expecting you at six.”

  “I’ll be there,” Wyatt relented, knowing there was no point in arguing with his uncle. It would raise too many questions. He didn’t want anyone to have a reason to look too closely at him. If they did, he was certain they would see the damage the war had done to him.

  Once Wyatt was alone, he stood and made his way over to his sack and picked it up. He strode to the back of the building, opened a door that divided the area, and entered his bedroom. He glanced around, noticing that everything was exactly as he had left it, though it was free from dust. His aunt must have cleaned the surfaces, but nothing more.

  He moved over to the dresser, his fingertips brushing against the cool metal of his pocket watch and cuff links. He picked up first his comb, then his straight razor, turning each item back and forth in his hand. He opened the top drawer, moving around the undershirts and socks. All of the items were his, but they felt like they belonged to someone else now. It was as if he was a stranger ruffling through someone else’s possessions.

  Wyatt let out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his dark hair, before lifting his bag onto the end of his bed. He opened the top and pulled out his uniform, his pistol, and his Bible. Buried towards the bottom, his hands encountered the edge of a small, wooden box. He hesitated, debating whether he wanted to bring it out. He knew he would have to look at it sooner or later, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to have the emotions hit him like they did the last time he looked inside.

  Slowly, he brought the box out. Though the Confederate States Congress approved the
president to bestow medals and badges to soldiers, none were ever created or awarded. Now that the South had lost the war, that was how it would remain forever. What was inside, though, was more precious to him than any medal he could’ve ever received. It was a hand-written letter of recognition stating he deserved the highest of honors for heroism during the war. Each of the surviving men from his regiment signed it. It had been given to him before he left to return home. Along with it, he had been given a Confederate half-dollar, one of only four that were in existence. It wasn’t worth much on its own, but it was a symbol of what he and his fellow soldiers had fought and died for—Southern freedom to live their lives as they saw fit. That dream was lost now. In its place, a crippled nation floundered to survive.

  Wyatt sagged against the edge of his bed, saddened over all that had happened during the past several years, and the immense losses they had suffered. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes; the sting of them teasing him to let them fall. Everything they believed in and fought for was destroyed now. Thousands of strong, good men died, while the “lucky” few returned home broken and stripped of everything they once held dear.