A flash of understanding filled her eyes and she bolted from the chair. “Papa!” Evelyn cried, rushing to her father’s side. He lay on the mattress, his face transparent, lids closed over sunken eyes. Wisps of white hair sparsely covered his skull. She took his hand and felt the squeeze of his frail fingers.
A hint of a smile tugged one corner of his mouth as he gazed up with dazed eyes. “Mary?”
Evelyn opened trembling lips to correct him, but Radford squeezed her shoulder and shook his head. They exchanged a long, meaningful look before she nodded.
Her father's grip became more insistent. “Mary?” he called, concern strengthening his voice.
Evelyn leaned close and cupped his face. “I'm here,” she said, knowing it was kinder to lie.
“Knew you'd wait.” He relaxed and pressed his cheek into Evelyn's palm. “Ah, Mare...” he whispered as his eyes drifted closed.
Evelyn held his hand as he passed away. Memories of her beautiful, giving father should have given her strength to face his death, but it made the pain of her loss unbearable. The unjustness of a strong man being reduced to such a weakened state made her angry and a cry of denial burst from her lips. “No!” She clasped his hand and shook it gently. “Not yet! Papa.”
Her high pitched wail cut through Radford and he pulled her into his arms. He felt the stiffening in her body, heard the long, pain-filled cry like a mournful wind as the beginning of her first sob erupted and shredded his composure. He stroked her back, his pity choking him while he listened to her lose her battle. Deep, wretched sobs erupted from her throat and she clung to him while her tears wet his shirt and soaked his chest. Each sorrow-filled cry pierced him with helplessness as she hit his chest with her pathetically ineffectual fist.
“It's not fair,” she wailed in hoarse, broken cries.
Her grief rent his composure. The tears he tried to suppress clogged his throat and left him gasping. He listened to her broken cries, catching fragments of things that might have been, that she'd hoped for.
“Don’t, sweetheart,” he begged hoarsely. He captured her fist and tucked it between them, pressing his wet cheek to her hair. His own grief consumed him and he clutched her to him while they wept, knowing that each of them had lost something invaluable in their lives.
“He wanted grandchildren...and to give me away on my wedding day, and, oh, God...I wanted him to live!”
“Me, too, love. Me, too.” It was agony to hear the rending of emotions that released the pain in Evelyn’s soul. She had suffered so much and asked for so little. Radford cradled her in his arms and kissed her temple. “I'm sorry.”
As Evelyn clung to Radford, she felt his chest heave beneath her fist and his throat convulse against her temple. She touched his wet, unshaven chin and he kissed her palm.
She drew back and looked into gold eyes that were surrounded by wet, spiky lashes. “How will we tell Rebecca?” The thought alone made Evelyn cry again and she knew that Radford wept, too, because he couldn't answer right away.
“We'll wait until morning,” he finally said. “It might be easier then.”
“This will never be easy.”
Doc Kendall opened the door and Radford shook his head. The doc’s expression fell and he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to the door for several seconds. He glanced over at William for a moment then gave Radford a nod of understanding. “I’ll go tell your family,” he said, then backed from the room.
After several minutes, Evelyn quieted and Radford released her. Emotionally drained, he dragged an arm across his eyes and raked his hair off his forehead. “Where is your father's suit?” he asked. “I can manage alone if you tell me where to find his things.”
Evelyn was silent while tears streamed from her eyes and her shoulders shook. When Radford would have pulled her back into his arms, she straightened her back and released a quavering breath. “His underclothes are in the chest of drawers. I'll be up in a minute with water.”
“Let Doc Kendall help me when he gets back.”
“He's my father. I’ll do this for him,” she said, before leaving the room.
When Evelyn returned, she bathed her father, talking softly to him as she drew the cloth gently over his aged skin. When she finished, she brushed away her tears that had fallen upon his chest, then kissed his lips. Radford shaved her father then combed what was left of his hair. Together, they dressed him. Evelyn buttoned his shirt and Radford fixed his tie and tucked his shirt into his trousers. They tugged his socks over his swollen feet and Evelyn tied the thin laces on his Sunday shoes.
“Papa taught me how to do this,” she whispered, then buried her face in her hands. “He taught me everything I know.”
She wept while Radford rocked her, choking back his own sorrow. For William had taught him many things, too. He'd taught him how to survive a war, and how to block the horror from his mind when he had to kill a man. But most importantly, now he had shown him how to die like a man when it was his time to go. For Radford, it was like experiencing his father's death a second time, and it was nearly unbearable.
Chapter Twenty-four
Kyle and Boyd brought the coffin late in the morning, then helped Radford and Duke lift William's body into the padded box. Radford met Kyle’s fierce gaze over the body of their friend and sent a silent apology with his eyes. Kyle’s look said, Go to hell.
They carried the casket downstairs and placed it on a long oak table that had been cleared of pictures and draped with a lace cloth. Evelyn straightened her father’s suit, tears fringing her lashes as she smoothed his hair back with her palms.
Before Radford could step around the coffin, Kyle reached out and put his hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. When she turned and saw it was Kyle offering comfort, she burst into tears and fell into his embrace.
Radford stood at the opposite end of the coffin, his emotions swinging wildly from wanting to haul Evelyn and Kyle into his arms and weep out his apology, to feeling an overwhelming urge to yank Evelyn away from Kyle.
Afraid he wouldn’t be able to control himself, Radford went to his bedroom then opened the wooden trunk that sat in the corner. Underneath a faded blue uniform, and a badly frayed hat, lay a medallion that was given to a boy undeserving of such a medal. Now it would be placed where the honor was most merited. He found the folded flag beneath a worn Bible. The edges of the cloth were frayed and held the dusty smell of age. Radford stroked his hand over the faded colors, then closed the trunk and left his room.
Evelyn and Kyle were still standing beside the casket when Radford came downstairs, but the instant Kyle saw him, he stalked to the kitchen, grabbed his jacket off the hook, and followed Duke and Boyd outside.
Radford pinned his medal over William's heart, knowing he deserved Kyle’s animosity, but it cut painfully deep.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Evelyn asked.
“It's where it belongs.” He placed the folded flag in William’s withered hands. “He should be dressed in his uniform,” he said, but their clothing had been hanging in shreds and their boots rotting off their feet when their regiment was mustered out after three years of endless battles.
“Papa would have been touched by this,” Evelyn said quietly. She drew a shaky breath, then nodded toward the foot of the stairs where Rebecca waited uncertainly. “Rebecca’s awake.”
Radford took Rebecca to the couch, but her gaze was riveted to the coffin where William was laid out. She leaned forward and whispered in Radford’s ear. “Why’s Grandpa sleeping in that box?”
Pain gripped Radford’s heart as he reached for Evelyn’s hand. They linked fingers and he pulled her down beside them. “We have some sad news for you this morning.”
Rebecca looked at Evelyn. “Is that why you're crying?” Evelyn compressed her lips and nodded. “Did you get hurt?” Rebecca asked.
Radford knew Evelyn couldn’t answer. He brushed Rebecca's curls off her cheek. “Grandpa went to heaven last night.”
Rebec
ca frowned in confusion. “He’s right there,” she said, “in that big box.”
Radford glanced at Evelyn and felt helpless to explain a loss that was so devastating to all of them. “Grandpa’s spirit went to heaven last night. Today we are going to send his body to him.”
“When will he come back?”
“He won’t, honey.”
Rebecca glanced at the coffin. “Wake him up and tell him to stay with us.” She tugged on Radford’s hand. “Go wake him up.”
“I can’t,” Radford choked out.
“Yes!” Rebecca pushed back and slid off his lap. “I don’t want him to go,” she said, running across the floor. She reached up and tugged frantically at William's arm, jostling the coffin as she pleaded, “Wake up, Grandpa! Don't go up there!”
Radford sprang to his feet and swung her up into his arms. Her face crumbled and she buried her face in his neck.
“He won’t wake up,” Rebecca cried.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” Radford heard Evelyn's quiet weeping beside them and he drew her into his embrace. The three of them clung together at William’s side, giving and receiving strength, doing what they must to make it through the moment. Radford thought he'd never lose the ache in his throat or the weight in his chest.
It was agonizing for Radford to witness their misery and he gave silent thanks when Evelyn carried Rebecca to the rocking chair and told him to join his brothers.
After helping dig William’s grave, Radford returned to the house to change his clothes. When he descended the stairs, he found the parlor full of people who shot curious glances at the bruises on his and Kyle’s faces, but they were tactful enough not to ask questions. Evelyn stood near her father's prone body with Kyle’s arm around her slumped shoulders. She was tense and pale and looked ready to collapse in exhaustion.
Kyle’s presence reminded Radford that his brother had always been Evelyn’s friend, that he’d always been the one to stand by her, but Radford knew it should be his arms that offered comfort. He swallowed his irritation and kept his distance from Kyle until he saw Evelyn slip outside unattended.
Now that they were alone for the first time in hours, Radford stopped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.
“I’m falling apart,” she said quietly. “I’m lost without Papa, and each time I look at Kyle and know what we've done, I despise myself. He’s your brother, and my friend. Even after what I’ve done to him, he’s still standing beside me. He would have never done this to us.”
“I know. If I could turn back time, I would have told Kyle about my feelings for you long ago. I would have faced his jealousy and anger with sincere remorse rather than a rotting conscience.” Radford turned Evelyn to face him. “It’s too late now. We’ve earned our guilt. We’ll just have to pray that Kyle will remember the love and learn to forgive us someday.”
“He won’t. To Kyle, love and honor have the same meaning.” Evelyn glanced up, her eyes dark pools of sadness. “Are you ever confused about love?”
Radford traced the dried tear tracks on Evelyn’s cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “I know what love is every time I look at you. I know it each time I see you with Rebecca. I feel it each time you touch me or look at me with those green eyes. Don't you ever doubt that I love you.”
“Then don’t go back to your mother’s tomorrow.”
“I have to. Doc Kendall will be going home and we can’t share a house without a chaperone.” He raked back his hair. “I need some time, yet, Evelyn, and so do you. We'll make it through this,” he whispered. “I promise.”
But Evelyn believed otherwise as she returned to a house full of friends and acquaintances who’d arrived with food and their deepest sympathies. To her surprise, her friend Amelia had brought Evelyn a grossly pregnant cat, saying she might appreciate the company when the house got too lonely. Evelyn’s emotions fluctuated from gratitude to such depths of despair that it exhausted her.
Too tired to consider where her future was headed, Evelyn searched the crowd for her father to make sure he wasn't overdoing himself. Undoubtedly he'd be in the middle of the excitement and she would have to send him a warning look to be careful. The sudden realization of why they were all gathered in her house hit Evelyn with such force it knocked the breath from her. She gasped and pressed a hand to her chest as the world rocked beneath her. Oh, Papa...
Agatha grasped her arm. “Dear heavens! Are you all right?”
Crushed by the onslaught of emotion, Evelyn was unable to answer.
Radford and Kyle were immediately at her side, their gazes clashing as they each grabbed for her arm.
“Would you get my coat, Kyle? Pastor Ainslie is ready for the funeral now,” she said, nodding toward the pastor who was opening the door.
Kyle nodded and went for her coat, but his kindness was beginning to smother her as thoroughly as the people pouring into her house. Another stranger had arrived and was making his way toward Evelyn and Radford.
“George.” Radford extended a hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“I wish it were for other circumstances,” he said.
Radford touched Evelyn’s back. “This is George Collins. He was our first lieutenant and a close friend to Doc Kendall, your father, and myself.”
“My deepest condolences,” George said, enfolding Evelyn’s hand in his. “Your father was a great man and a friend I’ll dearly miss.”
“Thank you,” Evelyn replied, feeling as though she was going to faint from the press of bodies. She sighed with relief when Kyle returned with her cloak, but nearly swooned when Radford yanked it from his hand and draped it around her shoulders.
The four Grayson men carried the casket bearing a man who had treated them like his own sons. They placed it upon thick boards crossing the grave, then Radford began the eulogy.
“I believe the best way to describe a man is through his own words,” he said. “William wrote this to me after our first major battle at Chancellorsville.” He retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket, his nervous fingers fumbling to open it. “‘A man’s actions determine his worth. Should he fail himself, he fails those who love him. There are times when he will have to dig to the very marrow of his bones to find the courage to go on. But go on he must. For any man with an ounce of pride will know his duty to his family and to himself. And if a man has one person in this world to love, then each day is worth the fight.’” Radford gazed at those gathered on the hill. “William Tucker knew his duty to those who loved him. And he never let us down.” Radford folded the paper with trembling fingers then went to Evelyn and laid it in her hand. “May the strength that these words lent to me in times of need, comfort you, as well.”
Kyle stepped forward and handed Radford William's old Enfield rifle. The cold steel burned his shaking hands as he accepted it, remembering his initial thrill at Camp White when he’d received his own Enfield rifle. Now, Radford wished to never see a rifle again.
He had vowed the day his regiment was mustered out of service that he would never fire another shot, yet once again, he was forced by duty. Memories snaked their way through Radford's mind, and despite the cold morning, he felt sweaty and nauseous.
With dread, he lifted the gun and looked down the length of the gray steel barrel, seeing nothing but the bleak gray sky. Everything was gray. Gray uniforms and glinting gray guns and caustic smoke that seared his nostrils and clogged his throat until it suffocated him. Radford’s quaking knees gave out. He stumbled and lost his grip on the rifle. To his horror the gun clattered to the earth and lay like a viper at his feet. Radford scraped his palms down the legs of his trousers, trying to rub the feel of metal off his palms. Doc Kendall's assessing gaze and George's sympathetic one pierced Radford with shame.
Kyle picked up the gun and gripped Radford's shoulder. “Pull yourself together,” he said quietly while the crowd looked on in confusion. “Do it for William.”
Boyd stepped up, flanking Radford between them. “You're home n
ow.”
“It's the four of us,” Duke said from behind him. He placed a heavy hand on Radford’s shoulder. “You don't have to do it alone.”
Radford felt the hands of his brothers on his shoulders, lending their strength. Slowly, he drew the gun up and sighted toward the farthest cloud. His hands shook, but Kyle steadied the gun until Radford could manage on his own.
With clenched teeth, Radford pulled the trigger and fired three lone shots to mark the passing of a great man, a hero, a father. He jerked his face away from the acrid rifle smoke and thrust the gun at Kyle. But his strength was so seriously lacking, he stumbled to the casket and could barely manage the rope when they lowered it into the cold, black earth.
Chapter Twenty-five
“I want to go home,” Rebecca said, bursting into tears as Radford entered the room he slept in at his mother’s house. He picked her up and she clung to his neck. “I want Aunt Evelyn.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Their lives were hell living without Evelyn and he had no idea how to comfort Rebecca when he could promise her nothing. He hadn't spoken intimately with Evelyn since the funeral three days earlier. His pathetic attempts to examine his past had begun an onslaught of vicious nightmares that he fought his way out of with violent results. He’d protected Rebecca by putting her in his mother’s room, but she was rebelling against being uprooted again. Kyle had moved into his own house the day of their fight, and other than his brief comment at William’s funeral, he hadn’t spoken a word to Radford since.
If Radford could only find his way through this hell. If he could only roll back time to when he was seventeen and start all over again. He’d fight the war like a man. He’d come home to the hero’s welcome he deserved. He’d shoulder the burden of supporting his family as he should have when his father passed away. He’d fall in love with Evelyn before Kyle thought to ask her to become his wife. But he couldn’t roll back time. He couldn’t undo any of his mistakes. All he could do was try and make restitution.
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