Secret Way to the Heart

by Camille Regholec

  “Yes, that is another exemption.” Jim laughed, but this time without mirth. “But again I do not quite fit. I may have a son, but I am not a widower. My wife lives.”

  Jayne opened her mouth but quickly shut it when she saw the slight shake of her mother’s head.

  “At one time, you could have paid a substitute to serve.” Jayne's father spoke for the first time since the conversation started. “I am sure there would have been someone to fill your space for several hundred dollars.”

  “Now, Father, you know I would never put an innocent person in danger to protect myself.” Jim looked straight into his stepfather's eyes, and Jayne saw a flash of emotion exchanged between the two men. “Besides, that law is changing. It has already in the South. No man can hire another to serve. Both will have their own enlistment. Lastly, you must realize I volunteered to serve.”

  “So you are Captain James McTierney now?” Jayne's mother reached out and lightly touched her son’s freshly shaven face as he nodded. “I am honored to be your mother.”

  “How much longer will you be with us before you must return?” Jayne asked.

  “A total of 269 of the Ninety-third New York reenlisted for three years or whenever the war ends. We were all given a thirty-five-day furlough because of everyone reenlisting,” Jim told them. “I will have to leave in a few days to meet up with the troops before we return to the battle.”

  “Then let us spend the time left with as much joy as we can.” Her voice trembled, but she lifted her chin in determination.

  Chapter 20

  The very next day, Jayne and her family received news that once again shattered their peace. The sun was high in the winter sky when Jayne saw a soldier riding up the drive.

  “We have company,” she shouted as she grabbed her woolen shawl, threw it around her shoulders, and went out on the front porch to greet the man. Jim and her mother came to stand beside her.

  The soldier dismounted and removed his hat as he approached. He was young in physical appearance, but there was an old man look about his eyes, as if the memories of what he had seen during his time of service had aged his soul.

  “Excuse me. I am looking for a James McTierney or a Miss Jayne van Hoyton.” The man’s voice was surprisingly high pitched, causing Jane to wonder if the soldier before her was even younger than she’d thought.

  “I am Captain James McTierney.” Jim stepped forward and pointed at Jayne. “And this is my sister, Jayne van Hoyton, and our mother, Amanda van Hoyton. How can we be of assistance to you?”

  “Captain? I . . . uh . . .” The young man suddenly straightened and saluted. “Sir!”

  “At ease, soldier.” Jim saluted back. “What can we do for you?”

  The young man hesitated before reaching into his jacket and pulling out several small wrinkled pieces of paper. Looking down, he tried to smooth out the creases. “I have some news . . .”

  “Come inside,” Jayne's mother stated as she turned and led the way back indoors. “Whatever news you have can be told by the warmth of the fire, and my husband, Marc, should hear it as well.”

  Once they were all inside, the young soldier looked even more uncomfortable as he watched Jim assist Jayne's father from his room to a chair by the fireplace.

  “Won’t you have a seat?” Jayne offered the soldier.

  “No, thank you, miss,” he replied as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “For this message, it is best for me to be standing.”

  “Well, then,” Jayne's father stated, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Let us have the news.”

  “First, I am sorry to report that Mr. Joel van Hoyton was killed during the firing upon Charleston on Christmas day.”

  “Ahhh,” Her father groaned as his head fell forward, and he lifted his hands to cover his face. “Oh, Joel!”

  “Dear Marc, I am so, so sorry.” Jayne's mother knelt beside her husband and wrapped her arms around him. Both Jim and Jayne rushed to their parents’ sides, and for several minutes, the only sounds were the sobs from her father and the murmuring words of the family as they tried to comfort the grieving man.

  The young soldier cleared his throat several times before anyone looked up at him. It was apparent he did not wish to continue, but he squared his shoulders and resumed his mission.

  “Mrs. Clara McTierney was also slightly wounded during that time as she was with Mr. van Hoyton.”

  “Clara was wounded?” Jim’s face turned ashen as he moved toward the man. “How badly hurt was she? Where is she now?”

  “She is recuperating at a hotel in Charleston as her home was destroyed by fire and the hospital is overrun with wounded soldiers from the front.”

  “A hotel?” Jim shouted. “A hotel? She needs proper care from medical personnel! I know how quickly infections can attack the body and lead to death!”

  “I am not privy to that sort of knowledge, sir,” the soldier replied, extending the slips of paper in his right hand. “She asked that I deliver this note to you or Miss Jayne personally, and so I have done my best to fulfill her wishes.”

  “Tell me, soldier,” Jayne's father asked as Jim almost ripped the pages from the other man’s hand. “How is it you are able to deliver a note across the blockade?”

  “Well, sir, Miss Clara had been assisting the doctors at the prison in which I was in. When the two sides were negotiating for the exchange of prisoners, it was found that I was to be one of them, and she asked me to deliver it to you if I was set free.”

  “But how did you get the note if she was in the hotel? Did the Confederates let you wander the streets?” Jayne's mother asked.

  “Oh no, ma’am,” he replied. “She gave me that note a week before the shelling began.”

  “Before?” Jayne gasped in confusion. “Clara wanted to get in contact with my brother and me before she was injured?”

  “Oh thank you, Lord!” Jim mumbled as he quickly scanned over the dainty handwritten note. When he looked up, his eyes were damp but glowing. “She is asking us to forgive her, and for me to take her back.”

  “Forgive her?” Jayne’s heart pounded harder and her throat grew tight. “Take her back?”

  “Yes, Clara says she began helping at the prison when she saw that there was a lack of medical personnel capable or willing to handle the horrendous battle wounds the prisoners came in with. She says all she had learned at my side has helped at the hospital during various surgeries. Overhearing conversations among Joel and her male relatives got her thinking. The testimonies of these young Yankee soldiers in the hospital turned her heart. It became clear the reasons they were willing to give up their lives for another was they saw each slave as made in God’s image. She asked the Lord’s forgiveness, and she regrets all that she has done. Clara promises she is a changed woman—and this was before she lost everything and was injured.” Jim’s smile spread across his face as he waved the wrinkled pages.

  The young soldier quickly left, leaving the family reeling in this turn of events. The furlough came to an end, and with many tears, Jayne, her mother, and David Moses waved farewell as Jim rode away, his back straight and his eyes focused forward. He had written a letter to Clara and sent it off, not sure she would ever receive it. His prayer was for a swift end to this war, so he could return to Clara and reunite his family.

  Jayne asked God to forgive her, as her only thought was of losing David Moses.

  Soon after, the last of her father’s strength disappeared. As his health took a turn for the worse, he was once again in bed. Nothing anyone said to him could lessen his heartache over his nephew’s death. That they had not reconciled grieved him terribly.

  “Jim has that note from his wife, and it gives him hope for a future reconciliation. There is no chance, no hope, of reconciling with Joel now that he is dead,” Ja
yne's father mumbled one night.

  “But we do not know if he asked God for forgiveness,” her mother murmured. “It is possible he will be with us in heaven one day. That is our hope.”

  “Yes, that is our hope,” He replied, but his tone did not sound as if he believed his own words.

  “We do not know otherwise,” Jayne's mother insisted. “Our God may have reached Joel, and he repented. Our God is merciful and just. He alone knows the final outcome. Let us trust God in this.”

  “You are right as always, my dear.” Jayne's father tried to smile, but the tremor of his lips made it difficult. He reached out and grasped his wife’s hand in his. “I have been so blessed to have a wife like you, and children that are good and serving both God and country. Nothing is too hard for my God. Thank you, my dear, for reminding me. I so love you.”

  “Oh, Marc, I love you, too,” Her mother whispered huskily as she arose from her chair to kiss her husband. With tears in her eyes, she looked over at Jayne and smiled. “And yes, we have been blessed with wonderful children and a grandson.”

  That night while Jayne's father slept, he quietly passed from this life into the next. The small smile on his lips gave Jayne and her mother hope that her father was met by his nephew as he went to be with the Lord.

  The days after the funeral were a blur, Jayne automatically doing the chores, for there was still David Moses to care for. The grief she had felt at the loss of the Freemans were nothing compared to this searing emptiness at her father’s death. Jayne’s heart ached, and her emotions were crashing as she tried to comfort her mother and David Moses until she had nothing more to give.

  When Jeremiah’s father went home to the Lord the same week, her grief intensified. She represented her family at that wake and funeral as Mother barely left her room. The sound of shovels scratching up the dirt grated on Jayne’s nerves, and she prayed God would somehow give her a little more strength to extend condolences to Jeremiah and comfort to Hope. As she assisted the local women to put out food for after the service, Jayne found that Hope would not leave her side.

  “Jayne, you won’t leave me, will you?” Hope whispered, her red-rimmed eyes pleading for assurance. “Everyone I love dies.”

  “Hope, the sad part is that everyone eventually will die unless Jesus returns first.” Jayne hugged the trembling girl to her. “I know it is hard to say goodbye, but we can hold onto God’s promise that we will see them again.”

  “But now, there’s just Daddy and me,” Hope mumbled as she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her black dress.

  “I am here for you, Hope.” Jayne handed over her handkerchief. “I promise as long as I have breath and you need me, I will be here for you.”

  Embracing the child closer, Jayne suddenly sensed they were not alone. Glancing up, Jayne found Jeremiah standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of grief and love. She fought the urge to rush over to him and try to comfort him. In her heart, Jayne asked God to forgive her selfishness. He was mourning, and the love she saw in his eyes was for his daughter, not for her. But, oh, how she wished it was for her!

  Life seemed to be spiraling out of control in the weeks that followed. Jayne's mother barely left her bed, and Jayne felt like she was moving through a fog. She could not concentrate, and she struggled not to lose her temper at the children. She prayed late into the night, hoping that God would intervene somehow and make things right again.

  God’s intervention came with an official-looking envelope delivered by William to her mother. He was very businesslike and left shortly after he delivered the envelope. Before Jayne could see to her mother, there was another knock on the door. Jeremiah stood there with hat in hand.

  “Jeremiah! How good to see you!” Jayne stood aside to invite him in. “I was about to make my mother some tea. Would you care to join us?”

  “I would like to speak to you, if I may.” He seemed to clench the brim of his hat a little too tightly.

  “Surely, but can whatever it is you want to talk about wait until I make us some tea? I am trying to get my mother to eat something. She has lost a lot of weight since my father’s passing.”

  “Of course.” Jeremiah sat on the settee and looked out the window. “Your mother is most important. Please take your time.”

  “Make yourself comfortable. I have to deliver this envelope that William just delivered.”

  “Please leave the envelope until after I have a moment to speak to you.”

  “But . . .” Jayne looked at him with confusion, but she silently nodded her agreement when she saw the pleading look in his eyes.

  Jayne wanted to ask what was on his mind, but she saw that Jeremiah was already deep in thought, and after a moment, she went to make the hot beverage. The conversation could wait for she needed to care for her mother.

  When her mother refused to leave her bed, Jayne left a tray on the nightstand and went back with another tray to the parlor where Jeremiah was waiting. He rose from his seat and took the tray out of her hands, setting it on the small serving table before sitting back down, his movements stiff. Jayne had just served him a cup of tea when he suddenly stood up and blurted out, “I think we should marry.”

  “Marry? You want to marry me?” Jayne gasped in shock, her tea sloshing into the saucer. Jeremiah’s words were ones she’d dreamed of for close to four years, but his frowning face made the request not as romantic as she’d hoped. With trembling fingers, Jayne placed the delicate cup and saucer on the table and clenched her hands together. “Why?”

  For such a surprising proposal, his words were as calmly expressed as if he were asking for the time of day.

  “I know you are not truly capable at this moment to comprehend the necessity of giving me your answer as soon as possible.” He sounded almost angry as he spoke, and a sudden swell of anger rose within her as well.

  “Not capable of understanding?” Jayne jumped up from the settee and glared at Jeremiah. She stamped her foot in frustration. “How dare you insult me!”

  “I am not insulting you. I am—”

  “Not capable?”

  “Possibly that was a poor choice of words.”

  “Possibly?” Jayne gave an unladylike snort of disgust. “I presume you consider that a well-chosen word.”

  Jeremiah ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stand in disarray as he walked toward her. “Jayne, I am sorry my choice of words were inappropriate. I do not mean to hurt you.” He reached out his right hand to take hers, and the shock of his warm touch ran from her fingertips to her heart. When she attempted to jerk her hand away, Jeremiah tightened his hold. “I believe we need each other. Please consider my offer.”

  “My father is barely in the ground, and you want me to make a decision that will affect the rest of my life, and my family’s lives as well?” Jayne stared in disbelief at the man she loved. His words were not the words of love she longed for! They sounded as if he were ordering a meal at the eatery!

  “I can understand your distress,” Jeremiah continued. “But, if you agree to this marriage, you, your mother, and David Moses will be taken care of. I am already in the process of selling my father’s farm, and the proceeds will be in your hands to keep your homestead.”

  “Neither your father nor mine are cold in the ground yet, and you talk like this?” Jayne shook her head, and fresh tears ran down her cheeks. “I must say your timing, let alone such a suggestion—I will not call it a proposal—is outrageous!”

  “Why do you say that?” He released her hand and began to pace in front of her. “Do you not know what is in that envelope William delivered? He just gave you the foreclosure papers with the demand that the loan be paid by Friday of this week, or you will be thrown off the land on Saturday.”

  “William did that?” Jayne gasped in shock at the betrayal of her longtime friend.
“How do you know this?”

  “It is now public knowledge your cousin Joel swindled the last of your family’s money and, unbeknownst to your parents, even mortgaged your mother’s homestead.”

  “William would serve us these papers knowing my mother’s state of mind right now?”

  “One could excuse him as he was just doing his job,” Jeremiah replied, but his tone clearly showed his opinion of the lawyer.

  “By Friday?” Jayne whispered, picturing her mother as she last saw her, curled up in a ball on Father’s bed, her tears drenching his pillow. Jayne wasn’t sure her mother could take any more loss.

  Wrapping her arms around her waist, Jayne lifted her eyes to search Jeremiah’s. “But . . . what benefit do you expect to get from this arrangement?”

  “I would be ensured my daughter would have a loving mother to care for her while I am gone.”

  “G-gone?” Jayne stared at him in confusion. “Where are you going? Are you not going to live here after your farm sells and . . . and we marry?”

  “I would never presume to be a true husband under these circumstances.” He stopped pacing to look at her before continuing. “Everyone shall presume we are truly married. You will be the caregiver of my daughter and will have access to my assets, but I plan on enlisting and will serve as a chaplain in the army.”

  “Enlist?” Jayne gasped. “But why now? People say the war cannot continue much longer!”

  “Be that as it may, it was only love for my father and my daughter that kept me from serving before now. With his passing, I feel that is what God is calling me to do.”

  “God did? So the sabbatical is now over, and you are willing to saddle yourself with a wife, an elderly woman, and another child, along with a mound of debt, in exchange for a clear conscience as you abandon your daughter?”