Cordia sat next to Will’s makeshift bed, hardly believing she was looking into his eyes. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to be shot and then have someone digging around inside you with a knife and no anesthesia trying to find the bullets,” she mutters, shaking her head. “No chance you’re going to get an infection or pneumonia or anything is there?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I’ll be just fine. Y’all can’t get rid of me that quickly. Take a few weeks or so to heal up, that’s all. Doctor did say I was lucky that the bullet that hit me in the collarbone had already went through something else though, otherwise it probably would have killed me.”
Cordia’s eyes were wide with amazement. “Really?”
“Yep, but I’m okay.” He paused for a second, studying her face. “How are you?”
He could tell by the look she was giving him that she must
Cordia looked at the letters as if she had never seen paper before. “What’s this?” she asked.“One of them, I have to apologize, I should have mailed a long time ago. The other one, I wrote just the night before the battle.”“Oh.” Cordia turned the papers over again and again in her hands. Though he had held her hand and played with her hair, she had questioned whether or not he was doing these things out of kindness, and familiarity of seeing a face he recognized. She had been sure that, if he truly reciprocated the emotions she had articulated in her letters, not only would he have written her back—and sent the letters—but upon seeing her, he would have expressed his undying love for her, or something of that nature. His refusal to return to Lamar only served to further convince her that he did not feel the same way about her as she did about him and she was just beginning to wonder how she was possibly going to g
In a very real way, the journey home was, for Cordia, almost as difficult as the initial trip had been. Though she no longer felt the heavy burden on her heart of waiting, she was now fully aware that it would be her duty to inform the Adams family that their proud soldier son was, in spirit, no longer with them. Though she had somehow obtained this reputation of being strong enough to handle most everything, she didn’t know how in the world she was going to find the words to look Margaret Adams in the face and say those few words, “Jaris is dead.”An idea crossed her mind, and that afternoon, as they neared a small town in Green County, she asked Frieda if they could stop by the post office and see if they had a telegraph machine. At first, Frieda had argued with her, saying how important she thought it was to reach Jasper County, and the safety of some family friends, before the sun went down. However, after a small amount of pressing from a desperate girl
Cordia unfolded Will’s first letter and began to read by the dim lantern light.July 6, 1861,Dearest Cordia,Please forgive me for not writing to you sooner. I am not so good with words, and your skill has intimidated me some, I am afraid. I have taken much solace in your letters. Your words have captured the feelings within my heart, and it brings me peace, even now as I have just come from an awful battle, to know that you are out there waiting for me. I was at first concerned about your relationship with Jaris. I wish that I could advise you on what you should do so as not to hurt him, but I do not rightly know the best thing to do either. I do know that war seems to change people. Perhaps, when all this fighting is over, you will find your answer. In the meantime, I must tell you it is only the thought of building my life with you that carries me through the hardships we must each endure. How many times in these past weeks must I
Traveling along the crudely cut wagon rut of a road the next morning, Cordia felt an overwhelming amount of solace. They had been riding along for an hour or so, just entering into Barton County, when Frieda remarked on how peaceful she seemed.“I am at peace,” she agreed. “And I am happy to be nearly home.”Frieda seemed putout that Cordia was willing to admit she was no longer beside herself with grief. She “humphed” about it and gave the reins a violent shake.Cordia’s forehead furrowed in surprise. “What, would you have me bawling all the way home?” she asked.“No,” Frieda relinquished. “But, still, don’t you think you should be feeling a little distraught, considering what it is we are a’haulin’ here?”There really was no way that Cordia could explain to Frieda why it was that she now felt such contentment. Ever since she had dreamt of Jaris, she ha
Cordia had never been to a funeral before. Most of her grandparents had died before she was born. Her Nana Pike passed away when she was about three or four, but she had stayed home from the funeral with Frieda. She had read about such things in many books, so it was a little surprising to her when she awoke that Saturday morning to see the sun shining in the sky. After all, in every story she had ever read, the sky was always dark and gloomy, wind blowing a driving rain, as all the mourners, dressed in black huddled around the coffin.As her family followed the procession of other carriages and wagons out to the cemetery on the edge of the Adams Farm, she thought it fitting that the sun was shining. Though it was still August, and therefore, still hot, there was a nice, gentle breeze blowing. Jaris’s parents had asked Cordia and her family to sit with them directly in front of the coffin. She took her place there, beside what would have been her mother-in-law. Margaret
Cordia was looking forward to spending a nice fall day with Julia at the Adams Farm. It had been a rough September for her dear friend. Julia had not quite recovered from the effects of not knowing Will’s fate. She had spent a great deal of time in bed lately, coughing, choking, too weak to get up. Cordia had been extremely concerned for her. She had been to see her every day. Sometimes she just sat by and watched Julia in a restless sleep. Other times, she would read to her, or they would share stories about their childhoods. At one point, Julia’s fever was so high, Dr. Walters wouldn’t let Cordia, or anyone else besides Mrs. Adams, even go into her room. Finally, it had broken, after about three days.Since that time, about a week prior, she had seemed to be doing much better. Since it had cooled off a little, she was even spending some time outdoors in the fresh air. Cordia had sent word to Will about his sister’s condition, but she had not heard fr
“Home. There was that word again,” Cordia thought as she heard Julia gush over Will being home. She was behind them now, walking more slowly. How difficult it would be to have him here and to pretend to everyone that they were just acquaintances, just friends. Yet, as she noticed Mrs. Adams coming out the front door to greet him, she knew she had no other choice. They all went inside, and she lingered in the yard a moment, trying to get herself together. It wouldn’t be the first time she denied the way she really felt. She guessed she could do it again.Margaret was smiling and laughing, but it wasn’t the same as it had been before Jaris was killed. Now, her face seemed to have a gray tone to it. Even when she was truly amused, it never quite left her. She had gotten Will something to drink, and was trying to force food upon him, though he insisted he had eaten while he was making the trip from the train depot to the farm. He had walked the tw
Cordia sat through dinner doing everything in her power to act nonchalant about Julia and Will coming over later that evening. Her father had been so excited himself, he was bubbling with glee all through their meal. “It will be so nice to hear from someone who has actually been in battle,” he was saying.Cordia wasn’t really eating. It was more like she was conducting some troop movements of her own, maneuvering the various items of food around her plate so that it looked like she was consuming it. Her mother had noticed though. Finally, she said, “Cordia, dear, you don’t have to eat it if you aren’t hungry. I know it must be very sad for you to see Will. Probably just a reminder of your dear Jaris.”If that’s what it took to get out of pretending to eat, then she was willing to accept it. “Yes, mother,” she said. “May I be excused?” Her mother consented and she went upstairs to re-read Will&rsquo