Now and Forever

by Mary Connealy

  “That’s how my dream always starts. The first man I failed. The battles are so nightmarish with the rifle fire and cannonballs, the bleeding, the wailing. It was unbearable, and I went through one, the Battle of Hanover. The first place I was sent, my first taste of the war. I wanted out and knew that, being a woman, I could get sent home. I dreaded what Pa would say, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was working up the nerve to go to my commanding officer and say the words that would get me out when I got pulled into the medical unit—around a hundred men, dying or badly wounded.

  “The need was so great, I started helping, and ugly as it was, it soothed the nightmare of the battle. I started working and didn’t stop for twenty-four hours. I brought water to the patients and washed blood away, tended wounds after the doctor was finished. That part was bad, but I found I could do it, and the doctor asked if I’d stay on permanently. He got me reassigned.”

  “But you talk about amputation.”

  Shannon smiled sadly. “The next day I got sent with the medical unit to Gettysburg.”

  “I didn’t pay the war much mind, but even I have heard of Gettysburg.”

  “Nearly eight thousand men got killed outright, and then came the wounded . . . fourteen thousand Union soldiers, twelve thousand Confederate. And there was no escape for me. In fact, I was so busy I didn’t even consider trying to shirk the duty. The battle went on for three days, and we raced to save every man we could. That’s when the doctor forced me to watch him amputate a man’s arm. He said the man was bleeding out through a severed artery, and we had to stop the bleeding. After watching the doctor do two of them, he handed me a saw and told me men were dying while I stood around.”

  Tucker slid a hand deep into her hair and drew her close. For a few minutes they just held each other.

  “I killed the first man I touched. A kid really. He saw me coming at him to cut off his leg and started screaming.” She began shaking as she spoke. “He had a tourniquet below his knee, and the doctor told me the leg had to come off. It was only because I was so dazed that I could even do it. The first cut, he jerked and fought me, but I kept at it. I started sawing above that tourniquet and . . . and opened an artery. He bled to death while I tried to stop the bleeding. I yelled for help, but there was no one who wasn’t in the middle of a life-and-death battle with a wounded soldier. I watched him as he died. He grew weak enough he quit screaming, as if he’d accepted death. The way he looked at me, he knew I’d killed him. He stared straight into my eyes as he fumbled for something in his pocket. He pulled out a letter. It was for his mother. He was so calm. He asked me to mail it for him. I . . .”

  Tucker held her tight as her trembling racked her whole body. “When he finally died, I suppose you’d say I was . . . I don’t know. The doctor shouted at me to move on, work on the next one. He said something like, ‘You’ll get better at it.’ Practice hacking off limbs.” She shook her head as the images invaded her mind without sleep. “I went on to the next man, and the next. The doctor was right—I did get better at it. I worked from then on as a medic. Helping to carry wounded men off the field to a makeshift hospital. We were always short of doctors, and I did everything that was asked of me out of the cold stone that had replaced my heart.”

  She looked up into Tucker’s eyes. Kind, compassionate, and she knew she shouldn’t say the words but they haunted her. “There can’t be a God. No real God would allow such a horrible thing to take place.”

  She buried her face in her hands to make herself stop. She couldn’t look. Afraid of what she’d see. A man convinced she was right, that the world only could be as it was if there was no Divine Hand.

  Tucker seemed to gather her up. That was all she could think of to explain it. She felt like she was falling apart, and he held her together so she wouldn’t shatter.

  There was no sense of time as they sat there, his arms wrapped around her. She stopped covering her face with her hands and instead buried her face in his shirt and clung to him, her arms tight around his back. She’d always been a strong woman. She’d had to be. And yet how many times had she let Tucker be her strength?

  It was wrong and weak. And she loved it.

  Finally, she felt whole enough that she could look at him again. “That’s my nightmare. It always starts with that first man, screaming. Then it just builds . . . the wounds, the pain. Tucker, what men do to each other during war, how could hell be any worse?” She felt the grief of it as if the wounds were her own, and even that seemed selfish because of course the wounds were not her own, not even close. “I’m haunted by it. I’m buried in bloody, severed limbs, terrified men in agony.”

  “And you want to live here quietly and tend your sheep, and try and believe in God again?” Tucker asked.

  Shannon nodded.

  “I’ve met God on those high-up mountains. In small ways that are undeniable. You’ll never shake my faith. So you don’t have to fear saying the wrong thing. I’m strong enough to listen and not be hurt by your doubts, and, Shannon . . .” Tucker chucked her under the chin and smiled.

  “What?” His smile was unexpected.

  He leaned close and gave her a kiss as gentle as a whisper. “If I’m strong enough to listen, then for certain God is.”

  Shannon gasped, because when Tucker said that, she realized that he’d spoken aloud her greatest fear. She didn’t want God to know of her doubts. She was afraid He’d judge her for them. And she’d deserve it.

  “How could you go through something like that and not have doubts?” Tucker went on. “God understands that. Not talking about them . . . well, God still knows.”

  Of course He did. Shannon knew then she’d been hiding behind her search for peace, hiding her doubts from The One Who Knew Everything.

  “There ain’t much in this life that’s a bigger waste of time than trying to hide things from God.”

  With the faintest of smiles, she nodded. “That’s so true.”

  “Instead of pretending you have no doubts when you so clearly do, just talk to Him about them. Open yourself up and see if, like a festering grizzly bear claw across the belly, light and fresh air—or in this case, honesty—will heal what ails you.”

  Shannon threw herself into Tucker’s arms. He was solid. Like the mountains. Like his faith. “How did I get so lucky as to end up married to you?”

  “Our fate was sealed from the minute our eyes met when I saw you on that roof. Everything after that was just us wasting time we could have spent being together.”

  Shannon laughed. Then she couldn’t laugh anymore. “And now that man last night is going to be part of my nightmares, I can feel it.”

  Tucker eased her away from him. “I didn’t tell you this because I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but now that he’s attacked us again, you need to know everything. When we scouted the Lansing homestead yesterday, we found the same burned-out barn, but this time there was an animal inside. A mule. We asked in town, and the Lansings had an old mule that was known to be cantankerous. Whoever burned that barn killed it. And he killed it in an ugly way. There was nothing like that at the other places. It reminded me of the kind of man who likes killing, who finds pleasure in it.”

  Shannon’s stomach twisted. “How can that be?”

  Shaking his head, Tucker said, “When I was a youngster, a mountain man came into the area who we found out was killing Indians for sport. At first he made it sound like he was defending himself. It was always him alone against one warrior, so no one could say he was a liar. But it was Shoshone he killed, and they’re peaceable folks. Pierre, Sunrise’s husband, had a special liking for the Shoshone people. His sons were of Shoshone blood, so it was personal to him. He tracked the killer after the first couple of times he spoke of having to defend himself and caught him stalking a lone Indian. Pierre . . . stopped him.”

  “You mean Pierre killed him.”

  Tucker was silent awhile. “There ain’t much law out here, Shannon. And back when this happened, there was
none. And even less so when a white man kills an Indian. But that man had to be stopped. I reckon what happened was mighty rough justice.”

  “You think we’re going to have to stop this man the same way?”

  “We’ll do our best to catch him and take him to the law. I’ve never killed a man and I’ve no wish to. But if he’ll kill an animal like he did that mule, he’ll kill a man.” Tucker looked at Shannon with fire in his eyes. “Or a woman.”

  “Why didn’t he kill our animals?” Shannon asked.

  “I reckon he couldn’t get past my grulla. Mean animal when she’s riled.”

  “When I ran in the barn, she had my sheep cornered. I thought she was keeping them from the fire, but she must have had them back there all along, protecting them from that man.”

  “Could be. She’s a mighty smart critter.”

  “She stomped out the fire, too. And when that man set them loose, she fought the wolves. She’s fought for my sheep as hard as we have. How’d you train her to do all that?”

  “I’ve never spent a single hour training her, except to ride, and she almost killed me when I tried putting a saddle on her and putting a bit in her mouth.”

  “But she doesn’t wear a saddle, and you have her in a hackamore bridle with no bit.”

  Tucker arched a brow. “That’s cuz I gave up. I couldn’t train her to wear neither of ’em. I found her trapped in a mudhole when she was a youngster. I dragged her out of the mire. She was half starved, and I nursed her back to health. She took a liking to me and started tagging after me. She’s been with me ever since.”

  A sharp rap on the door broke up their talk, and Shannon regretted it at the same time she couldn’t believe she’d stayed in bed so late.

  Tucker got up and glanced out the window. “Aaron and Kylie are here. I wonder what happened now? I’ll step outside while you dress.”

  “Tucker?” Shannon stopped him from opening the door.

  “What, honey?”

  “Thank you for talking to me about my nightmares. And for saving me last night. And for saving my barn, and for your horse saving my sheep, and for—”

  Tucker raised a hand, smiled. “Stop it or I’ll start listing all the things I’d like to thank you for, and Masterson will get so tired of waiting he’ll end up knocking the door down.”

  Shannon thought maybe it was the sweetest moment of her life.

  Tucker left, and she quickly got dressed. As she finished fastening her britches, she made a shocking decision. After things settled down some, she was going to sew herself a dress. Just one for special occasions—though she had no idea when such an occasion might be. Still, she was going to do it!

  She’d better ask Kylie how.

  27

  Sunrise told us about the attack last night,” Aaron said. “I’ll stay with the women while you go hunting.”

  Aaron was a decent tracker but not as good as Tucker. Then he saw Nev. Nev had uncanny tracking skills. For the first time it occurred to Tucker that those were skills the Barnburner had.

  Nev had come into the area with vengeance on his mind, half crazy. Some said more than half. Tucker didn’t want him along. But was it safe to leave him with the women?

  He knew Aaron trusted the man. Too much trust was a weakness that’d never plagued Tucker. Aaron wouldn’t be watchful enough to suit Tucker.

  “Ma?” Sunrise had ridden in with the group, too. “Can we talk a minute?”

  The trouble with this was that he’d have liked to have Sunrise along. She was every bit as good a tracker as he was, and if he was in a humble mood, he’d have to admit she was better. But Shannon’s safety came first.

  She followed him toward the barn without question. He quickly told her what Shannon had seen the night before.

  “She can’t describe the man,” Tucker said with a shrug. “I don’t want Nev with me, and I don’t want him here with the women without someone mighty suspicious keeping an eye out for trouble. And that ain’t Masterson.”

  Ma’s eyes shifted to Nev. “He seems to be over his grudge against Aaron, but a man can hide the truth. And he is new enough here not to fear you.”

  “When you get a chance, warn Shannon. But don’t say anything to Aaron.”

  Ma nodded. Tucker walked back to the cabin just as Shannon came out, dressed in her britches. It struck Tucker as such a sensible way to dress, he didn’t know why all women didn’t insist on it.

  He could hardly wait till he and Shannon moved to his cabin in the mountains. Up there, no one would tell her how to behave . . . though no one much told her down here.

  Turning to Aaron, he snapped, “You’ll stay here as long as it takes, even if that’s days. I won’t be back until I’ve found the varmint.”

  A hint of a smile crossed Aaron’s lips, and Tucker thought the man got the message that for once Tucker was giving the orders. It was a nice change. “I’m here until you get back, Tucker. And we’ll post a night watch.”

  Tucker glanced at Ma, who nodded her agreement. Nev might get a shift during the night, but he wouldn’t be left alone—not that he’d be told of it. It’d make long nights for Ma, yet she was tough as a boot, and besides, Tucker wouldn’t be gone that long. It occurred to Tucker then that he ought to hike up into the mountains and find Caleb and a few other friends to help him. But they’d been on their way to distant parts when they’d stopped to search for him. They’d be hard men to find now.

  With a special look for his wife, he headed for the barn. He wasn’t going it completely alone; his grulla would keep him company. The horse was a better tracker than he was.

  Mounted up, they rode for the clearing Shannon had spoken of. He knew the place. He’d start from there and wouldn’t be back until he had his man. He just hoped his man wasn’t right now smugly watching him ride away from his own homestead.

  He’d failed last night, and it left him torn up inside.

  It was satisfying to hurt something—like that mule. He felt like he’d wasted years not knowing what his true mission was.

  And then that mule had kicked him so hard he might have cracked ribs, then bit his shoulder. The animal had paid for it, and the rush afterward made him feel so powerful he wanted to feel it again.

  He’d had a glimmer of it when he lit the fires. Knowing he was harming those people. And he’d savored turning those innocent sheep loose when he heard those howling wolves nearby. But until the mule, he hadn’t understood the power of killing.

  Last night he’d gone to the Tucker farm eager to get another dose of it, but then that vicious horse had attacked. He’d barely been able to light the fire and run.

  And then he’d heard the woman in the woods and had stalked her, and he’d almost pounced. He’d wanted to. The fury of being bested by that horse had driven him to want to harm someone. That woman thought she was so clever.

  But his eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s. He could smell her. His ears could pick up every breath. He could have walked right up to her and taken out his fury. He’d’ve found more power than any mule would ever give him.

  But she might have a gun. That had stopped him. And did that make him a coward? No! It made him smart. A smart man didn’t just attack blindly. He planned. So he’d savored her fear as she hid from him like a frightened rabbit, then he’d gone on, stayed with the plan. Left the fire to do its damage and kill those animals that way, that unsatisfying way.

  And he’d gone home, carefully, mindful of not leaving a trail.

  All according to plan.

  Only to find out this morning he’d been thwarted.

  Not a single animal dead. The barn had survived. Nothing he’d hoped to accomplish had taken place. He thought of that woman. Leaving her alive ate at him and seemed like the biggest failure of all.

  If he wanted to regain a true sense of power, he knew the way to get it was to get her.

  He was going to do it right this time. And enjoy every minute of it.

  But only when he was ready. After
all, he was a patient man.

  Tucker headed for the clearing without doing anything more than glancing at the ground. He didn’t expect to see much and he didn’t. Then he reached the spot where Shannon had lost sight of the man. Dismounting from his horse, he crouched down at the spot where the faint trail entered the clearing. Tucker was glad he’d had a few minutes the other morning with these tracks before the rain. He picked out where the man had swerved away from the trail and ducked back into the woods.

  A chill slid down Tucker’s spine.

  He remembered what Shannon had said, how she’d rushed to the clearing with her gun drawn. The man had been within grabbing distance. But she’d gotten spooked, turned, and run for home. No, that wasn’t what she’d said. She’d run for him.

  She’d even said she felt like he was chasing her and then laughed at her foolishness. But maybe her fear wasn’t so foolish. Maybe he’d been coming. If not, it had been because he had chosen not to, because he’d been right there watching her.

  Tucker could read sign like the written word, and right now a story was shouting at him. His wife had nearly fallen prey to a man with a cruel, maybe a murderous streak.

  Tucker studied the prints and followed them. Not a bit of it was easy.

  He was an hour finding where the man had hid his horse. A lot of that was sheer knowledge of the lay of the land and how a man would move, where the next trail crossed this clearing. Tucker had to go along, with no tracks, for too long until finally he’d catch just a hint of a footprint. Just enough sign that the man had passed by to know he was on the right track.

  When he found the horse, it was a different spot from the night before. This horse had the same rags on its hooves. He let his grulla sniff the spot. When the trail got thin as air, the horse might find what Tucker could not.