“Hardtack?” Mia asked.
“Hard bread. Crackers. I have some in my haversack. I’ll show you.” Isaac opened his haversack with his one good hand and pulled out a hard cracker. He showed it to Mia.
She looked closely and saw tiny bugs. “Insects are crawling on it,” she warned him.
“When you boil the hardtack, you can skim them off the surface of the water. They don’t alter the taste of the food.”
Mia was shocked at his nonchalance of eating insect-infested food, but judging by how thin he was, she imagined that he, like all the other soldiers, would eat whatever was available.
During her life, there had been times that she and her mother hadn’t had money for groceries, and maybe she had nothing more to eat than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or leftovers her mother had brought home from the restaurant, but never had she been forced to eat something as disgusting as the hardtack that Isaac pulled from his haversack.
“Is it difficult? Fighting in the war, I mean?” she asked.
Isaac looked at her and smiled sadly. “We’re tired and hungry. Many of us don’t have proper clothing or shoes, and our families don’t have the means to get them to us.
“Sometimes, we’re not even sure why we’re fighting. I watched my own brother die with pneumonia this past winter. When it was time to sleep, we would lay his blanket on the floor of the shelter and cover ourselves with my blanket, but we could never get warm. Our clothing and blankets were well worn and not much thicker than the wings of a butterfly.
“Sometimes I think maybe if he weren’t so thin from hunger, he could’ve recovered. I think maybe if I had given him my share of hardtack, he would still be here with me now.”
“You shouldn’t think such things,” Mia said softly. “It wasn’t your fault. You have to take care of yourself, too. With your brother gone, I’m sure your parents are eager for you to get home.”
“I haven’t gotten a letter from them in six months,” Isaac said. He took a bite of the soft bread. “Other than losing my brother, I think that’s one of the most discouraging things—to not hear from people back home.
“I’ve been writing them, but I’m not sure if my letters are making it home, and I’m not sure if their letters are making it here. Sometimes, it’s hard to get the letters past the Yanks.”
“You’ll be going home soon,” she offered, hoping it was true. It must’ve helped, because he did seem to brighten at that thought.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Would you like some coffee?” Mia asked.
“Real coffee?” Isaac asked, seeming surprised.
“Yes,” Mia answered, wondering what he meant by that.
“I would love some. The last coffee I had was made with acorns. I suppose a squirrel would like it, but I could barely choke it down.”
At the mention of a squirrel, Mia immediately thought of Achilles. If everything went as planned, she would be home watching him chase squirrels in less than a week.
“I’ll be right back with the coffee.” Mia went to retrieve the coffee pot.
Matt and Emily had since arrived and were helping Benjamin pass out food and drinks.
As the day wore on, Mia found that many other soldiers had stories similar to Isaac’s. It was obvious that the war had taken a hard toll on these men. Many of them were so thin that she imagined you could count their ribs. They all seemed to be thankful for a good meal and some medical attention.
Mr. Richards had earmarked the first floor of the hotel for soldiers who needed a little time to recover before they could either return home or return to duty. The ones with more grievous injuries remained in the ballroom, where it was easier for the doctor and volunteers to watch their progress.
The adjoining room had been set up for surgeries with a large table in the center of it for the patients and a smaller table that held the medical equipment, which was primitive by the standards to which Mia had grown accustomed. While she couldn’t do anything about the equipment, she had insisted that Dr. Camp wash his hands between surgeries and use alcohol to clean the wounds. She had also insisted that he boil his instruments between surgeries.
With much grumbling, he had finally agreed.
At the surgeon’s request, Mr. Richards had been grouping the wounded based on their injuries. Men with wounds to the head, chest, or stomach were moved to one side of the room. Due to the nature of their wounds and the fact that these men would most likely die with or without medical attention, they would receive treatment last, if at all. Luckily, most of the soldiers had received wounds to the extremities. Unluckily, this meant the wounded limb would probably be amputated.
By the end of the day, Mia was exhausted. When fresh volunteers arrived, she retired to her hotel room to use the wash basin to clean up and to don fresh clothing. She was looking at the garden below, but she wasn’t focusing on the beauty of it. All she could think about was the suffering that she had witnessed.
The screams and delirium of the wounded soldiers would be with her always. The day’s events had offered her new insights into how the United States of America had been shaped and at what cost. Families everywhere were suffering greatly and sacrificing their most precious possessions—their loved ones.
And while the Civil War was one of the bloodiest, she knew that the sacrifices hadn’t stopped there. All of the subsequent wars had left a long list of sacrifices and horrors, so that she could enjoy life as she knew it. An overwhelming sense of gratitude for all of the veterans in the history of America overcame her, and silent tears slid down her cheeks.
Words couldn’t describe what it was really like, and even though photos did paint a picture, it wasn’t the same as hearing the screams of pain, watching soldiers numb with shock, and smelling the stench of death. She could only imagine how much worse it would be to actually be on a battlefield, knowing that your only option was to kill or be killed. That alone could torture a person’s psyche.
The image of the amputated limbs, miscellaneous hands and feet with varying lengths of the arms and legs, piled in a bloody heap was seared in her brain. They were the same hands that the soldiers should be using to hug their mothers upon their return from the war, to caress their girlfriends’ or wives’ faces, to toss their children in the air. But now their lives would be changed forever. And what about all of the soldiers who paid with the ultimate price? How many lives would this war claim before it was over?
Mia didn’t know the exact number, but she knew that this war was one of the deadliest in American history.
With Benjamin still working diligently with the wounded soldiers, Mia crawled into bed, desperately missing her own world, and sorted through the day’s events until sleep claimed her.
Chapter 13
A week had passed since Colonel John T. Wilder first ordered the shelling of Chattanooga. Benjamin was torn—torn between working long hours at the makeshift hospital and his need to spend time with Mia. Tonight, he would see to it that she returned home safely.
Matthew had agreed to bring in a couple of extra volunteers to the hospital to allow Benjamin to spend the day with Mia.
Benjamin took a deep breath, smoothed back his hair, and knocked on the door to her hotel room.
The door opened slowly. Mia smiled at him, the soft curve of her mouth revealing happiness tinged with sadness. Her golden brown hair hung in loose curls. Her eyes, fringed with long, dark lashes, seemed more blue than gray in the soft morning light. He reached out and ran his fingertips across her full lips, relishing their softness. He knew in his heart that he would never meet anyone as special as she. They were meant to be together, yet it was not possible. How cruel could fate be to bring him his soul mate yet dangle her just out of his reach?
He had one day left. If life had taught him anything, it was to make the most of what time he had.
“You look beautiful, Miss Randall.” He bowed slightly.
Mia curtsied. “As do you, Mr. Richards.”
&nb
sp; He held out his elbow. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?”
Her small hand wrapped around his arm. “It would be my pleasure. And where, may I ask, are we going?”
“I thought perhaps we might start with a race,” Benjamin said.
“A race?”
“Yes. Buttercup will want to see you on your last day here. She’s grown quite accustomed to you as her rider. So, I think we should have one final race between you and me, Thunder and Buttercup. I’ll give you a head start.”
Mia laughed. “Oh, you will?”
“You have my word,” Benjamin promised.
“And what makes you think I need a head start?” she questioned.
He stopped and pulled her around to face him. “It’s not that I think you need a head start.”
“It’s not?” she whispered, inches from his face.
“No,” he replied. “I want to watch you, Mia. The way the wind whips through your hair. The way your smile lights up your face as you turn to see whether I’m gaining on you. I want to hear your laughter as you forget just for a moment that your home, your family, and your life are so far away.”
Mia stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Benjamin kissed her tenderly, reveling in the feel of her in his arms.
She broke away. “You’re not going to win, you know.”
Benjamin grinned. “There’s only one way to find out.”
They climbed in the carriage, and Abram drove them to Benjamin’s home. Shortly after, they went to the stables where Thunder and Buttercup were waiting, saddled and ready to ride.
The stables smelled of fresh hay and horse. Flies buzzed nearby, and Buttercup’s soft whinnies seemed to proclaim her need to escape the confinement of her stall.
As Mia walked in front of him toward Buttercup, Benjamin reached for her elbow to stop her. She turned to look at him.
“Before we go,” Benjamin said, “there’s something that I want to do.”
Mia stood silently, waiting for him to continue. He removed her hat pins and the small hat that was perched atop her head and tossed them to the side.
He ran his fingers through her silky curls. “I want to remember you with your hair blowing freely in the wind.” He traced her jawline with his fingertip. “You’re beautiful.”
Mia locked her eyes with his. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re beautiful, too. Now let’s see if you can ride as well as you can charm.”
Mia squealed with delight as she led Buttercup from her stall. “We’re going to win this time, aren’t we, girl?” Mia cooed to Buttercup. “Those boys are going to be eating our dust.”
As Benjamin led Thunder from his stall, he grinned at Mia’s comments. Once outside the stables, he helped Mia mount Buttercup. She sat astride in the saddle, her dress hiked up her slender leg, revealing her stocking. She whispered in Buttercup’s ear. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he was quite sure it had something to do with their certain victory.
In one smooth move, he was atop Thunder and ready to race. He watched her as she shielded her eyes from the sun, looking into the distance. She was smiling when she turned to look at him.
“To the pond?” she asked sweetly.
“To the pond,” he agreed. “And what shall I get if I win?”
“What do you want?”
Benjamin patted Thunder’s withers. “If I win, you shall promise me that you will never remove the locket. Promise me that I shall be near your heart always.”
“I promise,” she said without hesitation. “And if I win, you must promise me a kiss. One that I will never forget. A memory that belongs only to you and me.”
“I win either way,” Benjamin said. “I promise to kiss you, Mia Randall, like you have never been kissed before.”
“Ready, set, go,” she yelled as she goaded Buttercup into action.
Benjamin and Thunder remained in position, giving her the head start he had promised. He watched as her curls bounced around her shoulders and uncoiled as she gained momentum, flying in the wind as she and Buttercup raced across the meadow.
He signaled Thunder into a gallop and gained on her with ease. She turned to gauge his distance from her, a brilliant smile lighting her face, her peal of laughter floating in the air like ribbons.
She urged Buttercup to go faster, and though Thunder instinctively wanted to accelerate, Benjamin reined him in and forced him to slow. The pond was visible a short distance ahead.
Mia bent low, clinging to the reins, as Buttercup galloped toward the pond. Benjamin allowed Thunder to catch up with Buttercup, but refused to allow him to do more than reach her hindquarters. Their hooves thundered against the dirt.
Mia reached the pond first, her laughter mingling with the croaking of frogs and the buzzing of dragonfly wings. She reined Buttercup to a stop and turned to face him.
Her cheeks were rosy from the wind and excitement. Disheveled curls danced around her face as her eyes, almost as blue as the sky, watched him with a hint of mischief.
“Good girl,” she cooed to Buttercup. “I knew we could do it.”
“The two of you have become quite a pair,” Benjamin said. “I think Buttercup shall miss you almost as much as I.”
He dismounted Thunder and helped her to the ground. Her smile diminished as she focused on his eyes. “I believe I am in your debt,” Benjamin whispered.
With his arm around her back, he pulled her to him and gently kissed her lips. He could feel her heart pound as he crushed her against his chest. His tongue parted her lips, and he tasted her sweetness. She tightened her grip around his waist, and he continued to kiss her until they were both breathless. Reluctantly, he pulled back and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, Mia.”
“I love you, Benjamin.”
“There is something that I would like for you to have.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small, gold ring with a sparkling diamond flanked by two seed pearls.
He bent down on one knee, holding the ring out to her. “I know this will never come to be, but I want you to know how I feel about you. If you didn’t have to leave, then one day in the future, when we were both a bit older, I would find the perfect moment to ask you for your hand in marriage. I would want you to be my wife, and I would want you to wear my mother’s ring.” He held the ring out to her.
Mia gasped. “Benjamin, I am flattered, but I couldn’t possibly take your mother’s ring. Not like this,” she whispered.
“Mia, I want you to have it.” He slipped it onto her left ring finger, and she stared at it. He couldn’t read her reaction, and a moment of doubt cracked a fissure in his confidence. “You don’t like it?”
“Benjamin, I love it,” she whispered, tears sliding down her face. “And I am honored that you want me to have it.”
“But?” he asked.
“We have to face reality. I’m leaving tonight, and we’ll be back to our old lives. And as much as it is going to rip my heart out to leave you, that’s what I have to do, for my mother’s sake.
“And you’ll meet someone new,” she whispered, fresh tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Never,” Benjamin declared emphatically as he stood and held her face in his palms. “You are my soul mate, Mia. And if I can’t marry you, then I will not marry.”
“Benjamin.”
He placed his fingertip on her lips, stopping her words. “I understand that this is how it has to be,” he said. “But I want you to have my mother’s ring. I want you to know that you are the one for me. I want you to know that I will love you forever and always.”
“And I’ll love you forever and always,” she whispered.
He kissed away her tears and held her close, soothing her as he glided his hand across her silken hair.
Buttercup nudged them with her muzzle, and Mia giggled as Benjamin released her from his embrace.
“It seems I have competition for your affections.” Benjamin laughed.
Mia rubbed Buttercup’s n
ose.
“Are you hungry?” Benjamin asked. “I thought perhaps we could have one final picnic by the pond before you have to leave.”
“I’m famished,” Mia answered, turning to see a large blanket spread out beneath a dogwood tree with a picnic basket in the center.
“Lusinda packed us some of her famous fried chicken, freshly baked bread, sweet tea, and apple crumb pie.” Benjamin walked to the blanket, and Mia followed.
“Sounds delicious.”
Benjamin unpacked the basket and gave Mia a drumstick and a hand towel. He poured each of them a glass of tea.
Mia watched the ducks swimming in the pond. “The babies are growing,” she said, motioning toward the pond.
Benjamin glanced at them. “They are, indeed.”
“It’s so peaceful here,” Mia said.
“It is,” Benjamin agreed. “This is our special place. I’m sure I’ll come here often after you’re gone.”
“I’ll miss it,” she said. “And I’ll miss you.”
“Let’s not think about it right now,” Benjamin whispered. “Let’s enjoy being together.”
Mia took a bite of her drumstick, watching a butterfly as it fluttered along the edge of the blanket. Benjamin was content just watching her.
They ate in silence, watching the ducks paddle lazily and listening to the horses snort occasionally.
Benjamin cut the pie and offered Mia a bite. “Try some of this pie. It’s my favorite.”
Mia opened her mouth, and he inserted a forkful of apple crumb pie. He took a bite, too.
“That is really good,” she said. “Think I could have another bite?”
Benjamin fed her another bite.
A duck wandered onto the bank and over to their blanket. Mia giggled. “I think we have company.”
Benjamin lay on his side on the blanket and watched her as she studied the ducks. She took another bite of apple pie and lay beside him. “It’s a beautiful day,” she said softly.
“What’s life like in your world?” Benjamin asked her.
Mia smiled at him. “I spend most of my time going to school and studying. As I’ve already told you, my mother works hard at a diner, but she doesn’t make very much money. We struggle sometimes, but my mother always makes sure that I have whatever I need.”
Ghostly Encounter (Ghostly #1) (Ghostly Series) Page 17
