A Soldier's Heart

by Sherrill Bodine

“Frederick, I can’t bear another moment of this waiting!” Fear drove her to desperate measures. “If you won’t go, I shall go alone, I promise you.”

  She could see from the horrified glaze in his eyes, he believed her. “I need an hour to get a wagon and team together. Then I’ll take you,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Thankfully Mother has taken to her bed.”

  Serena echoed those sentiments, grateful that Cecily had fallen into an exhausted slumber curled up beside Kendall’s bed, his hand firmly clasped on her lap, and Buckle was also deeply asleep, so could not witness her departure in the early dawn.

  During the long, torturous hours of this wait, she’d discovered what it was to be a soldier’s wife. She refused to consider the reasons Matt had not returned from his duties. With courage and a sense of purpose, she set out to find him.

  The roads were glutted with traffic. As each wagonful of wounded passed, Frederick would ask if it carried Lord Blackwood of Wellington’s staff. Waiting for each reply, Serena folded her hands and offered a silent prayer, for what she wasn’t certain. Should she pray to find Matt among the wounded or should she pray for a miracle?

  She was not alone in her search for a loved one. Others searched the roadside on foot, calling out names. Equipment had been abandoned and horses roamed aimlessly, some of them limping and wounded.

  They had just cleared the Forest of Soignes when she thought she saw a familiar figure. Against the rising sun she couldn’t be certain. “Frederick, stop!” she commanded. She stood as he jerked the wagon to a halt. Relief surged through her, combining with fatigue to make her light-headed.

  “Long!” She swayed a little as she waved. “Long! Long! It is you!”

  He fought his way through the traffic to her side, his filthy face set in rigid disapproval. “My God, Serena, have you taken leave of your senses? Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I must find Matt! Have you seen him? Please, I must find him.” Still standing in the wagon, she grabbed his bridle. “I must talk to him! You promised me I’d have the chance.”

  She’d never seen the dark eyes so haunted. “I’ve been looking myself. The battlefield is chaos. They’ve been shooting looters all night. This is no place for you!” He looked around her. “Who was fool enough to bring you here?” Flicking a glance at Frederick, Long gave a crack of derisive laughter. “Good God, Charlesworth, I hardly recognize you.”

  “Longford.” He nodded. “Seemed like the right thing to do, bringing Serena. She vowed she’d come by herself.” His owl eyes blinked rapidly. “I’ve discovered these women are quite determined females.”

  “Very perceptive of you, Charlesworth.” With his old mocking smile, he stared into Serena’s set face. “I see I can do no less than accompany you. But I warn you, Serena, you won’t like what you see.”

  Long had never spoken truer. As they approached the battlefield, the smell of smoke mingled with the stench of blood forced Serena to place her hands over her mouth. Long turned aside more than once to put some poor miserable animal out of its misery. Tears ran unnoticed down her cheeks. There were bodies everywhere, piles of dead and pitiful wounded who cried out for mercy. Most of them had lain untended on the ground overnight.

  Broken cannon, some with the barrels melted to a grotesque mass of metal, blocked their way. Here and there a horse wandered aimlessly, its rider fallen who knew where. Finally up ahead there seemed to be a semblance of order. A detail of men flung dead bodies into the back of a wagon, while another group hardly any more carefully shifted wounded men into a hospital cart.

  With horror surrounding her, she finally understood all that haunted Matt’s dreams. Only the absolute belief these men had been sacrificed for a just cause made it at all bearable.

  She hoped it would never have to happen again. She wasn’t certain she could hold on to her courage if Matt had to go through this another time. Perhaps she lacked whatever it was that drove a man to defend his country.

  She screamed in shock. A man lay facedown in the ditch, his dark hair streaming out over the regimental jacket that Matt wore. Frederick barely halted the horses before she slid out of the wagon and started forward.

  “Hold her, Charlesworth, while I look,” Longford shouted, his eyes hard as granite.

  Frederick, with arms stronger than she’d ever have believed, cradled her against him as Long kneeled beside the body. She saw him take a long, deep breath before he slowly reached out his hand and turned the dead man over.

  She saw the answer in his relief before she heard his words. “It’s not Matt, thank God!”

  He’d only taken a few paces before they all heard a shout for help. Off in the distance they could see two men, one blinded and the other limping, struggling toward their wagon.

  “Serena, stay put! Charlesworth, come with me!” Longford commanded, and both men ran to offer aid.

  Serena leaned weakly against the wagon wheel and sobbed, almost numb to pain. It couldn’t end like this! She would keep going, keep searching, forever until she found him.

  They had only had a beginning. He didn’t know she loved him. She would give her hope of heaven to have but one more moment—one more moment to tell him.

  Her gaze lifted from where Long and Frederick helped the two soldiers, to blindly scan the field, looking where she could search next. On a slight rise, silhouetted black against the rising sun, one figure stood out. He gestured, obviously giving orders to other men moving around him. But it was that one commanding figure which brought Serena upright.

  There was a certain breadth to his shoulders, the way the sun shot gold through his hair, that made her take a step forward, and then another, and another.

  Ignoring Long’s shouts behind her, she stumbled on, unmindful of all that lay beneath her feet.

  Shading her eyes from the sun, she saw the figure more clearly in profile, and then she began to run.

  “Matt!” she sobbed, and then again, “Matt!” she cried through a throat choked with tears of joy.

  He whirled and saw her, his eyes widening in shock and ultimately joy; eyes full of all the answers she’d ever need.

  “Sweetheart!” He caught her with hands that locked them together. He slid his fingers into her hair and sought her mouth like a man dying of thirst seeks water.

  She clung to him, whispering words of love onto his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, and received them in turn.

  He cupped her tear-streaked face with his hands, his thumbs caressing her trembling lower lip. His eyes, no longer unfathomable, searched hers. “I feared I’d never get this chance to tell you I love you in ways I’ve just begun to understand.”

  She turned her lips into his palm and kissed it. Cupping it against her cheek, she looked up into those eyes which so long ago had first drawn her. “We’re the lucky ones. We have been given another chance.”

  He pulled her tightly within the haven of his arms. “It’s not chance at all, sweetheart. In every battle I’ve ever fought, I’ve been alone. But today I could feel you beside me, feel your love reaching out to me.”

  At last a joyous peace settled into Serena’s heart and she knew that of all their beginnings, this was the one of love.

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