by Londyn Skye
“You certainly won’t get an argument outta me about that eitha’.”
“Victory two times in a row! Hallelujah! I’m on a roll!”
James laughed again as he grabbed his clothes and his satchel and hobbled into a back bedroom. He pulled out a can of chili and finally managed to eat it all without getting sick to his stomach. It gave him the strength he needed to go outside and fill a pail of water. He went back to the room and cleaned and redressed his leg wound. He then gave himself a quick sponge bath. When he was finished, he set the pail of water on a dresser nearby. He then glanced at himself in the mirror and froze. It was startling to finally take a good hard look at his own reflection and absorb what four years of war had physically done to him. He hardly recognized the thick-bearded, long-haired man gazing back at him. He wondered how Miss Em had not been scared off by the sight of him. He was astounded at the amount of dirt that seemed permanently embedded in the crevices of his skin. He figured it would take a box full of scouring pads and several more buckets of soap and water to remove it all. The baby-faced, muscular, head turning, esteemed country doctor was indeed long gone. James viewed the person in the mirror with sun-chapped skin, a malnourished frame, and a collection of battle scars as a beat down mountain man, who had lived a hard life. The visual was so hard to digest, he suddenly had to turn away from the mirror. When he did, his eyes fell on his uniform laying nearby. He limped toward it. Despite the struggle it was to place his leg in his pants, he managed to dress himself without help. He then went back and glanced at himself adorned in the uniform that he had proudly worn while pursuing an honorable cause. He suddenly stood tall, now feeling as though his drastic physical transformation had been worth all the years he spent helping to transform his broken country.
Miss Em could even sense the pride in James’s steps when he emerged from the backroom hobbling on his cane. She smiled proudly as if it were one of her own sons standing before her. “Let’s get it movin’ lieutenant! Got a church full ‘a folks waitin’ to pray for you and your Lily.”
“Let’s not keep ’em waitin’ then,” James smiled. He then escorted Miss Em out of the cottage to head to the church.
As the pair approached, they could easily hear the powerful sounds of the choir escaping the walls of the small rundown church. The angelic sound of their uplifting music made James ignore the pain in his leg as he cautiously climbed down from the wagon. Side by side, he and Miss Em then entered the crowded church. As packed as it was, the pair were forced to stand in the back among some other people, who were also looking for a place to sit. The praising, clapping, and energy from the choir made sitting feel impossible anyway. Even the people in the pew rows were on their feet clapping along. The clapping and singing suddenly halted, though, when the preacher announced, “those of you in need of prayer, please come forward now.” With the organ playing softly and the choir humming lightly, attendees wanting prayer began making their way toward the altar, while all others sat and bowed their heads to pray silently.
With a slow gait, James made his way down the church aisle with the warm feel of Miss Em’s hand on his back, helping him keep his balance along the way. The pair fell in step with dozens of other people shuffling their way to the front of the church. When James made it to the altar, he reached his left hand out to hold Miss Em’s before the prayers began. He suddenly looked to his left when she failed to grab hold of it. He looked further down the line of people, thinking maybe she was standing next to someone else, but he did not see her. He looked to his right, scrutinizing every face. Again, she was not there. James then turned around and looked behind him. No Miss Em. Left and right his head quickly darted. Instant panic set in when he scanned the remaining bodies in the pews and saw no sign of Miss Em there either. There was something about her sudden absence that triggered an instant terrifying state of confusion for James. He began to sweat and his breathing quickened, his chest visibly heaving. He felt as though he was suddenly awakening from one of his bizarre night terrors. The sound of the organ and the faces of church goers became distorted. He closed his eyes when he felt the room spinning. The way he began to stagger and hyperventilate finally commanded the attention of church leaders. One by one, choir members ceased humming and began to stare at James’s odd paranoid behaviors. Complete silence then fell on the entire congregation. Sensing something was off, those in the pews, who had their heads bowed in prayer, suddenly ceased praying. One by one, they began to lift their heads, until every single person in the room was staring at the bearded, long-haired soldier, who was leaning on his cane, looking like a lone frightened deer in a field.
When the room stopped spinning in James’s damaged mind, he began slowly scanning the sea of Negro faces staring bewilderedly at him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the pastor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder from behind. “Are you alright, young man?” he asked.
James turned around and stared at him, unsure how to answer in his state of confusion. “Wh-where’s the lady I came with?”
“What lady?” the preacher replied, now looking equally confused.
“She was right here,” James said, glancing to his left at an empty space.
“Sir, you came here by yo’self.”
“No! She was right here!” he said defiantly.
The pastor’s reply again made James feel like he was trapped in one of his bizarre dreams, but this time unable to rouse himself. His head quickly turned to the left to look down the row of people waiting on prayer. Nothing. With his panicked state still escalating, he quickly turned around to survey the entire room. As soon as he faced the crowd, James caught sight of a woman rising slowly from her seat, in the far-right corner of the room. Her mouth was partially agape, and her eyes were trained on him. The moment James locked eyes with her, his paranoia instantly ceased. With her head bowed in prayer, the woman had not noticed him until now. But the moment she laid eyes on James, she was instantly pulled to her feet. It was clear by the look on her face that she, too, felt like she was trapped in a dream … one she did not want to wake up from.
Despite being cloaked in a beard and long hair and having sun-chapped skin that was marred with scars, this woman was certain she knew the man those crystal blue eyes belonged to. She suddenly could not bear to turn away from the eyes gazing back at her. In fact, she needed to be closer to them. Those innocent eyes had immediately pulled her from her seat and were now tugging her toward the aisle to get a better look. She slowly sidestepped past the patrons in her row. She was far too entranced by the face she was seeing to remember to say excuse me as she passed. Still gazing at James in a hypnotic trance, she stepped out into the aisleway and froze. With him directly in front of her, a mere ten yards away, she now had the perfect vantage point. The very second she got a perfect look at those crystal blue eyes, an explosion of tears suddenly rained from hers. She now had absolutely no doubt that it was indeed those eyes that had rendered her speechless near a creek as a child while she held onto a turtle. Those eyes had given away the secrets of his love for her, long before his words ever had. Those were the same piercing eyes that had given her comfort and a sense of peace countless times throughout her life, in much the same way that they were now as they gazed upon her. If he was not an illusion, those stunningly beautiful blue eyes indeed belonged to the man that she had desperately missed for four years, ten months, and two weeks.
The blue eyes that had pulled this woman from her seat now stared at her with just as much awe as the very first day they met as children. James stood in the middle of the aisle, his eyes wide, his mouth agape, while every patron in the church curiously watched on in complete silence. James did not notice all the eyes on him anymore, though. He was far too entranced by the sight of a woman he had only been able to see in his dreams as of late. If it was not one of his realistic dreams, this woman’s angelically flawless face, and entrancing spindle-colored eyes, belonged to the woman who had consumed his fantasies, dominated his thoughts, a
nd motivated his actions for nearly his entire life. His arms had longed to wrap around her, his hands had itched to gently touch her face, and his lips had been desperate to caress hers … for four years, ten months, and two weeks.
Despite years of yearning for one another, there they both stood, unmoving, staring at each other like they were figments of their imaginations. Fear that they were in the midst of an enchanting dream kept them both frozen like statues decorating the ground. So many times over the years, this woman had fantasized about this glorious man, only to come back to the painful reality that she was in the arms of a man who owned her. She was afraid if she made another move, this incredible man would now vanish as quickly as a realistic dream and return her to the nightmare of her reality. That fear kept her feet firmly planted. A similar fear gripped James. For years, he had screamed the name of this stunning woman in his sleep. He now silently prayed this would not be another moment when he woke up heartbroken over the fact that he was not able to hold her in reality, the way he could in his dreams.
Despite his fears, James finally took a step toward her. The audience did not know these two people, but they could easily sense the sentimental depth of the moment. They watched with bated breath as James began slowly limping toward the woman whose music had kept him sane in the darkest days of his life. He had marched hundreds of miles during his tenure in the war, but no journey had ever felt longer than the few feet left between him and the love of his life. When he was within arm’s reach of her, though, he stopped. Suddenly, there was no pain in his leg. There was no audience … there was just Lily.
James’s eyes had filled to capacity with tears and his body suddenly began to tremble with uncertainty. He stood before the woman he loved, still praying silently that she was not an apparition. “A-are you r-real?” he finally found the strength to ask, his voice quivering. “P-please t-tell me you’re real. I’ve b-been dreamin’ about you f-for so long, I-I’m afraid you’re not real.”
Finally conquering her own fear, Lily found the strength to move too. She reached down and took a hold of James’s hand. Without breaking their mutual loving gaze, she slowly raised his hand, and gently placed it on her face. James exhaled great relief when the softness and heat of her skin sent a shockwave through his body, draining all his fears, right along with a waterfall of thankful tears. Lily’s eyes fluttered closed as she melted into his palm, his warmth confirming that this glorious man was no figment of her imagination either.
Lily’s mere touch seemed to heal every inch of James’s body, making him completely oblivious to the weakness in his leg. He dropped his cane and had the instant strength to pick Lily up off the floor and hold her as close to him as possible without crushing her in his loving embrace. As he held her, James felt his lungs inflate to full capacity for the first time in four years. The pressure in his chest pushed another deluge of tears from his eyes. He held his woman in that strong embrace for minutes, as they both wept in a way that ignited the tears of nearly every stranger in the room.
After infecting the congregation with their emotional display of love, James reluctantly eased the strength of his embrace and placed Lily back on her feet. He held her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers. He was dying to feel her lips against his but held off for the moment. Despite how difficult it was for him with his injured leg, he kneeled before Lily. He took off his necklace and removed her wedding ring. He took hold of Lily’s hand and looked up at her through eyes that were still overflowing with tears. “Will you still have me?” he asked, holding up her ring.
Lily took a deep breath, trying to settle her emotions enough to speak. “Every day for four years, I’ve gotten down on my knees and begged God to bring me one thing …” She reached down and caressed James’s face. “And he just answered my prayers.” Lily held her ring finger out. “I’m yours, James Adams … until the end of eternity. That’s what I vowed to you nearly five years ago. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” she smiled.
“I wouldn’t want it any otha’ way,” James smiled in return, as he finally slid his mother’s treasured ring back onto his wife’s finger. He then struggled to his feet and gently held onto the sides of Lily’s face. After nearly five years of deprivation, he satisfied his craving for the sweet taste of love. With tenderness, James slowly caressed Lily’s lips with his, savoring the flavor of their tears as they cascaded from their eyes and christened their first kiss in years. As his mouth slowly made love to hers, his mind noted that he had not forgotten the taste and feel of her. The sweet taste immediately began extracting a catalogue of sentimental memories from their fantastical life journey together that had cemented his love for her. The gentle way her lips caressed his in return now quickly added yet another moment with Lily that would imprint itself in James’s mind forever.
The new unforgettable moment took great strength for James to end. But he slowly pulled back from kissing Lily and opened his eyes to appreciate the sight of her angelic face again. Still in disbelief that she was indeed real, he refused to blink. It was not until he heard sniffling from a woman in the audience that he even remembered that there was a roomful of onlookers. He and Lily both smiled sheepishly at each other when they finally realized that they were interrupting the church service.
After unwittingly testifying to the congregation about the power of prayer, James picked up his cane, took Lily by the hand, and proceeded out of the church doors to let the service proceed. They walked in between men who had placed their hats over their hearts. They appreciatively nodded their head toward James, as a show of gratitude after seeing his uniform. James nodded back, feeling proud to have served, and even prouder to be holding the hand of the woman who had inspired him to do so.
Carefully, Lily helped James descend the church steps. She then guided him toward her carriage. When the carriage door opened, Griff’s eyes were torn away from the newspaper he was reading. He squinted and pretended to wipe the crust out of his eyes. When he was still not convinced of who he was seeing, he shook his head. “Little flowa’, umm, do I need a set ‘a spectacles, or is this bearded man who I think it is?”
“I’m happy to confirm that your eyes are workin’ perfectly,” Lily smiled.
“I’ll be damned.” Griff stepped down from the carriage to look James directly in his eyes. “Welcome back lieutenant,” he said with sincerity, giving him a proud pat on the shoulder.
James looked at Lily. “Truly great to be back.”
Griff helped James into the carriage. He then transferred his belongings from his wagon to their carriage. “I’ll come back and get your horse and wagon lata’,” he told to James.
James nodded. “Thanks Griff.”
“Not a problem,” he replied, closing the carriage door.
“And thank you too, God … for finally answerin’ my prayers,” James whispered, gathering his arms tighter around Lily. She rested her head on his chest and melted against him. The pair seemed content not to say another word to each other for most of the ride. The closeness was all they needed for the time being. Lily only felt compelled to speak after James suddenly lifted his head off hers. She looked up at him and noticed him staring oddly out the window. He had his eyes fixated on the yard of Miss Em’s tiny cottage. Her colorful flower garden in the front yard was now covered in tall weeds, and the windows were boarded up.
“What’s wrong?” Lily asked after noticing the look of confusion on his face.
“The flowa’ garden’s gone.”
Lily glanced at the rundown shack. “What garden? I’ve rode past here a few times ova’ the last few days. That house has always been abandoned.”
James looked utterly perplexed.
Lily touched his face to garner his attention. “Hey … you okay?”
James was still baffled but shifted his focus to Lily. “I’m holdin’ my wife again.” He let a kiss linger on her forehead. “I’m more than okay … I’m in heaven.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed he
r ring bearing finger, christening it with a stray tear. “I came home prepared to spend the rest a’ my life searchin’ for you, so I could finally put this ring back on your finga’.”
Lily smiled and caressed James’s face. “Well, you have William and Griff to thank for sparin’ you all that trouble.”
“We searched for you for years. How did they find you?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Two weeks earlier
Dear William,
When last we spoke, I mentioned to you the expensive artwork I was to deliver to a family in Texas. At the last minute, I was invited to their dinner affair as a thank you for my personal services. What I saw at the dinner event, or rather who, still has my mind reeling. Before reading further, I would caution you to sit down. For years, I have walked past Piers LeRoux’s portrait of Musical Dreams in my art gallery. Countless times, I have recalled you sitting before that portrait, praying to God to help you find Lily. Day after day, I see the beautiful face of Lily Adams perched at that grand piano. Because of the way that portrait has etched her exquisite features into my memory with perfection, I have no doubt that it was Lily’s face I saw this evening at the dinner party here in Galveston, Texas. It seems she is owned by a man named Atticus Atkins, and she has been forced to live by the name Bella. She seemed incredibly terrified by the fact that I had accidentally revealed her true identity, almost as if her very safety depended on maintaining the secret of who she truly is. Considering her well-being, I did not want to pursue the matter further without your input. I am staying at the Astoria Hotel at 75 Main Street in Galveston, room 203. Please let me know what further action you would like me to take.
Sincerely,
Preston Mills
