With a sigh of contentment, she turned her head slightly to glance back at her husband, and he turned her in his arms and kissed her with a passion that rivaled the horizon’s fiery glow.
“How ever did I manage it?” Katherine eventually murmured.
“Manage what?” Daniel smiled.
“How did I, of all people, manage to capture a Yankee heart?”
WOUNDED HEART
Dedication
After the Civil War, only men with extreme symptoms of what is now known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) were sent to soldiers’ homes and asylums to recuperate. The rest worked through their war experiences as best they could with the help of family, friends, and faith, a circumstance I have tried to portray here. I wish to thank Lee Strobel for his book The Case for Faith, which was instrumental in creating Jonah Kirby. To my editor, Aaron McCarver, and dear friend Sally Bayless, this book is all the better for your input. Thank you. And many thanks to those men and women who suffered and died for our country from its birth up to its present conflicts. To those same men and women, this book is respectfully dedicated.
Chapter 1
Delaware, Ohio Late March 1866
Adele Stephens, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said in the last five minutes!”
Adele looked up.
Her friend, Mary O’Neal, was sitting next to her in the parlor of Mary’s nephew, Daniel Kirby, and her warm brown eyes held a look of reproach. The older woman set down her teacup and picked up a quilting square from the side table between them. “I asked what you thought of the quilt I’m working on.”
“I am sorry, Mary,” Adele said, taking the square from her. She held it up, but as her mind wandered again, she looked right through the pretty green- and brown-print squares. Suddenly the fabric disappeared, and she looked up in surprise.
Mary had taken it out of her hand and was now looking at her with genuine concern.
“What’s the matter? I’ve never seen you so distracted,” Mary said.
“Oh Mary, she barely touched her dinner.” Katherine, Daniel’s wife, sat on the other side of Adele. She grasped Adele’s hand and squeezed it, her gentle face worried. “You aren’t taking ill, are you?”
The young widow smiled at her. She had grown to love the lilt of Katherine’s Southern accent. It was a perfect match to her warm and kind personality. “Nein,” she replied in her native German. “I am sorry. I have many things on my mind.”
“What sort of things?” Daniel asked lightly as he walked into the room. He stood next to his wife’s chair.
Adele turned her blue eyes toward him, struggling to find the right words. She had known Daniel and his family since she was ten—he was practically a brother to her. I must tell them. She clenched her hands in her lap and remembered the words of the psalmist: “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.” She opened her mouth, but Katherine spoke first.
“Oh, of course, you’re worried about where you and Jacob will live, aren’t you?”
Adele and her nine-year-old son, Jacob, had been living with a family in Ostrander, eight miles from Delaware, Ohio. But the Deckers were leaving the area to live closer to their newly married daughter. Adele’s parents had passed away when she was a child, and her brother, Erich Braun, had gone west several years ago.
Katherine looked at her husband. “Daniel, this house is so large. Couldn’t they stay here?”
Before he and Katherine had married several months ago, Daniel had bought his bride a house in Delaware, not far from Ohio Wesleyan University where he served as a professor. As much as she loved it, Katherine thought the house too large, too reminiscent of the plantation house in which she had been raised in South Carolina. Mary had assured her it was only half as large as that, and Katherine knew the older woman was right. Before Sherman’s march rent destruction through the Carolinas and drove her to return to her home state of Ohio, Mary had been Katherine’s neighbor.
Adele smiled. “Your home is not as large as you think. What if you have twins in the fall? Now that Mary is here to help, it will seem not large enough.”
Katherine reddened at her friend’s mention of her condition. “Adele!”
“Don’t scare me, Adele.” Daniel laughed. “I’m not sure Kat could handle twin boys.”
“I could more than handle twin girls,” his wife teased.
“Male or female, one or two, I pray the child will be healthy,” Mary said. She leaned toward Adele and laid a hand on her knee. “I’m thankful the Deckers allowed you to stay on in their house until that bachelor cousin of theirs moves in, but he’s coming this week. Do you and Jacob have a place to live?”
Adele took a deep breath. “Yes. In fact, that is where Jacob has been today.”
“So you did move in with the Warrens,” Daniel said. Reverend Paul Warren officiated at Mill Creek Church where Adele attended. Daniel took a sip from his cup. “I’m glad. I know you’ll be comfortable with Paul and Minnie.”
“We are not staying with them, Daniel.” Adele turned in her seat to look him straight in the eye. “We are living with Jonah.” Adele watched his eyes widen and heard Katherine gasp.
Daniel stared at her a moment before answering. “Adele, I know you’ve been going out to see my brother, to help him with the housework since Aunt Mary came to help Kat, but … well, what kind of example is that for Jacob?”
“It will be a good one. We were married yesterday, Daniel.” The three stared at her, and Adele took a sip of her tea. The cup jingled slightly as she returned it to her saucer. Frowning, she carefully laid the cup aside and squared her shoulders.
After several minutes, Daniel found his voice. “Adele, you could have borrowed money from us, stayed with us until the baby came—you didn’t have to do this.”
She shot him a meaningful look. “That is not why we married, Daniel.”
He stiffened. “Adele. You didn’t.”
“You cannot send Jonah to an insane asylum. It is not what he needs. I know.”
“You know?” Daniel said. “You haven’t heard the half of what’s been going on since he’s been back from the war. His mind isn’t the same.”
“Ach! Daniel, I’ve seen him for myself. He is angry, he is troubled, but he is not crazy.”
Daniel began to pace. “I can’t believe Paul Warren went along with this.”
“He did not know. Jonah insisted on driving to Marysville to have a justice of the peace perform the ceremony,” Adele replied. “I told him and Minnie before I came this afternoon.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t go to Reverend Warren,” Mary said quietly. “Jonah hasn’t been inside a church since he went with me right after he came home.”
“So you told my brother I wanted to lock him up and throw away the key.” Daniel shook his head. “He must be as angry at me as ever.”
Adele looked away. Jonah had been angry. He’d been at odds with his younger brother since before the war, and now she had gone and made the divide wider, however good her intentions were. But she’d felt she had no other choice. “I am sorry, Daniel,” she said.
He stopped his pacing to look at her. “What about Nate?”
“I have had four years to accept my husband’s death, Daniel,” Adele said gently. “And he would have wanted me to help Jonah.”
“Like this?”
Adele gazed at him steadily. “Considering the circumstances, yes.”
Daniel headed toward the door. “I have to take a walk.”
Adele looked down into her teacup as the front door latched behind him. Neither Katherine nor Mary said a word, and the silence in the room quickly grew too large for Adele to bear. “Please, say something.”
“Adele, I do wish you had talked to me.” She looked up to see gentle reproach in Katherine’s eyes. “Daniel hadn’t really made any kind of decision just yet.”
“I saw the letter, Katherine.”
“What letter?”
/>
“I did not mean to see it. Last week, when I went to look for a book for Jacob in the library, I saw it lying open on Daniel’s desk. It was from a Dr. Peck. ‘A brief stay in our facility would be in your brother’s best interests,’” she quoted.
“I’m sorry you saw that, Adele,” Katherine said. “Dr. Kelly communicated our concerns to Dr. Peck, a friend of his, and took the liberty of asking that the reply be sent to us. But Daniel still hadn’t made any firm decision.”
Adele frowned. She wished Daniel had never talked to Dr. Noah Kelly about Jonah. Daniel had met the doctor during his service as a Union officer. While Dr. Kelly was trained as a surgeon, he also “dabbled,” as he put it, with problems of the human mind. “Katherine, Jonah is not crazy.”
“Have you considered your and Jacob’s safety, Adele?” Mary asked. Adele stared at her, and the older woman went on. “You’ve only seen him during the day.”
“He was only having nightmares, Mary. And they are almost gone now.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Mary said.
When Jonah had come home, Mary had lived with him for a while, taking care of the housework. When she moved to Delaware, Adele had thought it was because Katherine needed her help. Her condition was making her feel weak at times.
“Katherine’s condition was not the only reason I came here. One night, a month or so ago, I heard a noise coming from the yard. I got up thinking Jonah hadn’t heard it, but when I got outside, he was already there.”
“He must have heard the same noise. What of it?”
“No, Adele, he was the noise. When he can’t sleep, he walks around the farm with his gun. That evening I startled him. It was only by the grace of God he didn’t shoot me. And in the daytime, he carries it with him everywhere.”
“I have heard of many men doing that.”
“Out West maybe, and for good reason, with outlaws and the like,” Mary said. “But Ohio is not the wild frontier it used to be.”
“Adele,” Katherine said, “Mary says he even sleeps with it.”
“He does not sleep with it,” Adele said. “It lies on the floor at the foot of his bed.”
“His bed?” Mary asked curiously. “Don’t you mean our bed?”
“Oh! Uh … yes,” Adele said carefully. “I guess I am not used to that yet.”
“Of course,” Katherine said with a little smile. “We understand.”
No, Adele thought, you do not understand. It was purely by chance she had seen where Jonah kept it while he slept. They didn’t share a bed. He had absolutely refused. She wanted to tell Mary and Katherine but hesitated. What would they make of it? Would it reinforce their worries about him?
She rose from her seat and walked to the window, mouth clamped shut. No, they were already worried enough over his rifle. His rifle. She hadn’t realized he was so obsessed with it. She had, of course, seen it with him several times, but she had not known. Had she been too rash?
Adele looked out the parlor window and brushed back a stray strand of her bright blond hair, her eyes not seeing the fine houses neatly situated along Liberty Street. Instead, she saw Jonah as he had been before the war: tall and strong, brushing light brown hair out of his emerald eyes as a gentle smile crept over his handsome face. A stark contrast to how cold and angry he was now. No, there was nothing else I could have done. She couldn’t have allowed one of her best friends to be hauled away against his will. He needs an old friend now, not a doctor who barely knows him.
Mary’s voice roused Adele from her thoughts. “Dr. Kelly should be here shortly. What will you say to him?”
“I will tell him, of course,” Adele replied. She noticed the slightly stricken look on Katherine’s face and continued. “I have always made it clear to Noah we are friends. Nothing more.”
“I know, Adele. And Daniel has tried to reinforce that over the past several months, but …” She looked at Mary.
“What?” Adele asked.
“He’ll be done guest lecturing at the university at the end of this term,” Mary said. “He’s made plans to set up a practice in Ostrander. And he’s made it no secret to us as to why.”
Voices came from the hall, and soon Dr. Noah Kelly entered with Daniel not far behind. “Noah, you should have waited to finalize your plans.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel, I— Adele.” Dr. Kelly smiled and stepped toward her eagerly. “I have wonderful news.”
Adele stopped his progress with an outstretched hand. “Noah, I have news as well. Perhaps you should sit down.”
Chapter 2
The Kirby Farm, Ostrander, Ohio
Jonah Kirby quietly slipped out the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse, his Enfield rifle in hand. He stood in the courtyard for a moment looking at the bright, full moon before walking through the small orchard and up into the trees and fields beyond. The air was cool, but it wasn’t long before he felt warm from exertion.
The Kirby farm, which had belonged to his family for two generations, was set along a gentle hill that leveled off every so often as it sloped to the valley below where Mill Creek busily flowed east toward the mighty Scioto River. The house, gardens, barn, and outbuildings sat on a wide plateau while the fields lay at the top of the incline. It was planting time, and he soon came to a field that had been plowed only yesterday. He walked along the edge of it so his boots wouldn’t press down the rich brown loam.
Continuing on, he came up on the northern corner of the property, the part he had allowed to become overgrown and wild—Daniel’s share of the farm. Jonah really should clear it. Plant something. The soil would be rich, and the yield from whatever crop he sowed would be well worth the effort. But his green eyes narrowed at the thought.
Before dying of a heart attack when Jonah was just a teenager, their pa, Joseph Kirby, had carefully divided up the land between his three sons. But Toby, the youngest, was dead, and Daniel was no farmer. The entire farm belonged solely to Jonah, the eldest of the Kirby brothers. He’d worked Toby’s share, but Daniel’s share was a different story. A few weeks after the funeral, his brother had announced he was going to go to school instead of honoring Pa’s wishes. Daniel offered to sell his share to Jonah, but Jonah refused. They fought, and in the end Daniel had told him to do whatever he wanted with it. Jonah had done just that.
As he turned to go on, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Jonah dropped to the ground. Was that gunpowder he smelled? There hadn’t been the sharp report of gunfire, but a man couldn’t be too sure. Leaning into a small tree, he pointed his rifle toward a dense thicket several feet away. A man’s form appeared, and Jonah began to squeeze the trigger, swearing he had seen a glimpse of Confederate gray.
The man’s face materialized in the moonlight, and with a start Jonah saw it was Cyrus Morgan, laying out traps. He lowered his rifle and slunk away, acutely aware he had almost shot one of his own hired hands. He shook his head to clear the confusing thoughts. This was his own property, not a battlefield; he was a farmer again, not a sergeant in the Union Army. He’d given Cyrus permission to trap there weeks ago.
He came to an old stump at the edge of an adjacent field, sank down against it, and looked down at his rifle. Relief immediately spread through him. The percussion cap, the small mercury-filled pellet that lit the gunpowder and fired the bullet, had not been in place. He kept them in his pocket now, ever since his aunt Mary startled him one morning and he’d come so close to shooting her. But that hadn’t been enough to keep her from moving out. She said it was because of Katherine’s “delicate” condition, but he knew better. Jonah rested the butt of the weapon on the ground between his legs and laid his forehead against the cold steel of the barrel. He clenched his jaw and felt his fingers tighten on the gun barrel.
Being a farmer, Jonah had seen and helped butcher so many hogs that the sight of blood shouldn’t have bothered him when he went to war, but it had. That and the cries of men suffering and dying, the news of old friends suddenly gone from
this world, and his failure to keep himself and others from being captured had affected him more than he ever thought it could.
And then there was the realization of how futile his prayers to God were—prayers that begged for deliverance from the horrors of the notorious Andersonville prison camp. He hadn’t been released until after Lee’s surrender, and then it was only to be put aboard the overcrowded steamship Sultana, which exploded as it made its way up the Mississippi. He just barely made it to safety. When he finally got to the farm, he discovered Ma and Toby were dead. Since it had been presumed he was as well, Daniel had tried to sell the farm to a neighbor so he could marry and realize his dream of becoming a professor.
After all that, he had gone to church and had hardly been able to stand the lesson that had been taught that day: the compassionate nature of God. God’s taken too much for me to ever believe that again, he thought as he rose and continued on his trek across his property.
He hadn’t been back to church. Instead, he threw himself into running the farm. It felt good to work the soil again, feed the animals, mend equipment. After four bloody years of war, the world was beginning to make sense again. But then, from out of the blue, the nightmares came. He would wake up screaming, scaring his poor aunt half out of her wits. She had tried to get him to talk about them, but he didn’t want to. He just wanted things to go back to normal.
He worked all the harder, and the nightmares faded after a while. Then, every few nights or so, he’d wake well before chore time and couldn’t get back to sleep. And he couldn’t think of anything better to do than to take a walk. He certainly didn’t want to read his Bible as his aunt had suggested. The problem was the thought of going out at night—or anytime for that matter—without his gun made him nervous.
Jonah stopped for a moment and stared at the weapon in his hands. Well, what did he expect? That after all those years of fighting, he would be able to just lay it aside without a second thought? When he’d been caught, he’d been beside himself without it. On the way home, he’d managed to get ahold of another gun, and since then, he hadn’t been parted with it.”
Buckeye Dreams Page 16
