With this Pledge Page 20

  “As I said, we’re headed to Nashville soon, and we’re going to pay back those Federals for what they did to us here. General Hood aims to end this thing once and for all.” He looked toward the battlefield. “I just wish the men I’ve fought with for the past three years, the ones I buried in that field the other day, I wish they could see us. I wish they could see that their honor is being upheld.”

  She covered his hands on her face, his words striking a bitter chord. “Do you know what I wish, Towny? I wish we could stop talking about honor and death. I wish this war would end. I wish all the fighting and stabbing and killing and shooting would cease. And that somehow we could find a way to live peaceably together. As I’ve watched what’s happened here at Carnton over the past few days—and I know that what I’ve seen is so small a slice compared to what you’ve witnessed—I’ve asked myself, Is this really worth it? Thousands of men dying in such horrid ways, some of them right in my arms. All the children who will grow up never knowing their fathers, brothers, or uncles. As I’ve watched doctors remove limb after limb, the piles growing as high as the table, I—”

  “Don’t talk that way, Lizzie. It is all worth it. Because once the Southern army takes back Nashville, which Hood says we will, we’ll have the supply lines we need and it’ll just be a matter of time before victory is ours. Then you’ll be able to forget all this and put it behind you, and we’ll get on with living our lives the way we were doing before the war started.”

  “But I don’t want to go back to that life, Towny. And I don’t want to forget. Not that I want to keep reliving the images from the battlefield every time I close my eyes. But far too much blood has been spilled to simply forget and move on. Instead, we need to learn from this. We need to make changes.” She briefly considered telling him about teaching Tempy, then quickly decided against it. He would only try to change her mind. “You know how I feel about slavery. I believe we have an obligation to—”

  “Lizzie, we don’t have to decide this now.” He wrapped her hands in his. “I came here tonight to see you. Not to talk about all this. I came to ask you to marry me.”

  She stared. “I’ve already told you I’ll marry you, Towny. We’re betrothed.”

  “No. I mean now. Marry me tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “You’ve got your dress all sewn and ready. You said so in one of your letters. And it doesn’t matter what I wear, just as long as I’m standing beside you when I say ‘I do.’ I’ve already stopped by Preacher Higgins’s house in town. He’s happy to do the honors. He said he’s watched us grow up and that it’s only fitting that he be the one to tie the knot.”

  Seeing his boyish grin spreading from ear to ear, Lizzie fought for something to say. “Towny, I—”

  “I know it’s not the wedding you dreamed of as a little girl, Lizzie. Getting married out in a field of flowers, birdsong all around you, the sun shining down.”

  Her heart warmed despite the slow panic mounting inside her. “You remember that? After all these years?”

  “I remember everything about you, Lizzie.” He winked. “So why don’t you go get your dress and we’ll go see Preacher Higgins. We can be husband and wife before the clock strikes midnight.”

  She looked up at him, everything within her screaming No! even as she saw Towny for the fine man he was, for the faithful friend he’d always been, and for the promise that he held. The promise of children. But this . . .

  “I’m sorry, Towny, but I can’t. It’s too quick. After all, our families aren’t here. And you know Hattie and Winder would never forgive me. She’s excited about being the flower girl, and Winder has already started practicing carrying the ring. And . . .” She winced. “I don’t have the dress anymore.”

  Confusion etched his features, and she rushed to explain. “The night of the battle we ran out of bandages. Mrs. McGavock offered up her finest dresses, even her undergarments. I offered my other two day dresses and a blanket. Then I imagined you lying somewhere wounded and bleeding, needing to be tended, and I knew I had to give the dress too.”

  He loosened his grip on her. “You cut up your wedding dress?”

  She squeezed his hands tight. “I can make another one just like it. It only took me a couple of months, which isn’t that long. And from what I’ve heard in recent days, the war could be over soon. Maybe by this summer. And we can be married then. So that will give me plenty of time.”

  He bent so his gaze was level with hers, like he used to do when they were children and he would study her eyes, trying to ferret out whether she was jesting or telling the truth. Only now he brought his face much closer to hers, and Lizzie was grateful for the shadows.

  “You haven’t had a change of heart, have you, Lizzie? About marrying me?”

  It took everything within her to hold his gaze. How could she answer him honestly? If she said yes, she’d be sending him back to war brokenhearted. She couldn’t do that. She’d given him her pledge. “No,” she whispered. “I haven’t had a change of heart.” But that was the problem. Ever since she’d said yes to him, she kept praying her heart would change toward him.

  He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, and she sensed a difference in the way he held her. An earnestness that hadn’t been there before. He moved closer, his body pressing against hers, and she felt a wall go up inside her.

  “I know it’s been horrible for you,” he whispered, stroking her back. “With everything that’s happened here. But trust me when I say that it’s been worth it. Or it will have been, once we win the war.”

  She looked up at him and took the opportunity to step back a little. “How are you so certain we’re going to win? And even if we do, it’s not worth it if it takes you, Towny. And Johnny. And the rest of the boys we grew up with.”

  “I’m not going to die. And your brother’s smart. He’s tough too. Like his older sister. After the war is over and I come home, I’m going to marry you, Lizzie. And as the years pass, we’ll look back on this time as a distant memory, and we’ll be grateful that the South rose up to defend itself. That we didn’t tuck tail and run like the Federals did the other night.”

  Tuck tail and run . . .

  The phrase reminded her of what Roland had said. There’s no way the Federals tucked tail and ran. They were ready for us. Roland had a different opinion about the outcome of this war. He no longer believed the Confederacy would win. It was a view that more closely aligned with what she’d seen on the battlefield, evidence that pointed to—

  Towny’s kiss caught her so off guard, she didn’t know how to react. Especially since the man kissing her wasn’t the man occupying her thoughts. His arms tightened around her, his mouth full on hers, his lips urgent, and she instinctively pressed a hand against his chest. He broke the kiss and stared down, his breath puffing white in the moonlight. Confusion colored his expression, and she knew her reaction had injured him. Something she never wanted to do.

  “I’m sorry.” She bowed her head. “I simply wasn’t expecting—”

  He gently squeezed her arm. “Something’s wrong, Lizzie. What is it?”

  She wanted to tell him everything was fine. That they were fine. But she couldn’t. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  He stepped back. “Look at me.”

  She hesitated, then did as he asked.

  “Do you love me, Lizzie?”

  “Yes, I do,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. Yet she couldn’t maintain his gaze.

  “Look at me,” he whispered again.

  She did.

  “Do you love me . . . in that way?”

  Her lips trembled. Tears spilled over.

  He sighed and nodded, then stared off into the night. A long, painful moment passed before he spoke again. “So why, then? Why did you say yes to me?”

  She pressed a hand to her stomach, the truth roiling inside her. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Towny.”

  “I know that. But I still w
ant you to answer my question.”

  “Because . . . we’re good together. As you said before, we already know each other’s good and bad sides. Our families get along well, and—”

  “Just say it, Lizzie Beth. You never were good at beating around the bush.”

  She stared up at him, her own selfishness condemning her before she even said the words. “I want to be married because I want children,” she finally whispered, then lifted a shoulder and let it fall.

  “Children,” he repeated, his voice hushed. “You always have loved children.”

  She nodded, waiting.

  “I guess that’s better than marrying me for my money.”

  The edges of his mouth tipped in a smile and lured one from her too.

  He took hold of her hand. “Before Mama died, she told me I should marry you. She said that best friends made the best husbands and wives.”

  Lizzie squeezed his hand tight. “She and your father were a wonderful example of that.”

  He nodded and looked away.

  “I’m sorry, Towny. I should have been honest with you from the very beginning.”

  When he looked back, emotion glistened in his eyes. “I love you, Lizzie. You’re my best friend. And I think I’m yours.”

  He waited. She nodded.

  “And I believe that, with time,” he continued, “that kind of love will grow between us. I already feel it for you.” He smiled down. “I’ll spend my life trying to make you happy. And you know I want children too. Lots of children.” His smile faded. “So, if you’re still willing . . .” He reached into his pocket. “I would be honored for you to be my wife.”

  He opened his palm, and even in the darkness, Lizzie knew what he held.

  “Mama wanted you to have it. Papa’s been keeping it, but I figured you could keep it until the wedding. That is, if you haven’t changed your mind.”

  As clearly as if a crossroads lay before her, Lizzie felt the weight of this choice. But she’d already given him her pledge. And he hadn’t changed his mind. Maybe his mother was right. Marlene and Towny’s father had shared a very loving relationship, and they’d started out as childhood friends. And now that she’d been honest with him, there was no reason for her to feel guilty anymore. Maybe that’s what had been getting in her way of moving forward with her feelings.

  Roland. Just thinking about him made her warm on the inside. What was it about him that did that? That made her heart beat a little faster even now. But was that enough to throw away a relationship with Towny? That would be foolish. She’d known Roland Jones a matter of days. She’d known Towny for well over half of her life. And in the end, she’d given her word. And a pledge was a pledge.

  Lizzie took the ring from his hand and looked up. “I’ll keep it safe. Until we’re married.”

  His breath left him in a rush. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’ve made me so happy. All over again. You won’t be sorry, I promise.” He grabbed his rifle and opened the gate. “Write me?”

  She nodded. “I will.” Then something within her shifted, and she wondered if this might be the last time she’d ever see him. The very thought brought her to tears, and she hugged him tight one last time. “You’re so dear to me, Towny.”

  He laughed and embraced her again. But this time it felt more like she was accustomed to, before they were betrothed. More the way of friends. She watched his shadowy figure until he reached the edge of the woods, then disappeared into the thick stand of pine, swallowed up by night.

  Holding the ring tightly in her palm, she returned to the house, only then noticing how cold she was. Shivering, she closed the door behind her. The lamp in the entrance hall had been dimmed, and it appeared as if everyone was already abed, including the nuns who were asleep on pallets in the best parlor. All except for the two sisters whose turn it was to keep watch over the men tonight. The nuns rotated that duty, and Lizzie didn’t know how the household would have functioned without their help—and their surprising wit. Who knew nuns could be so amusing?

  She walked to the lamp and held Marlene Townsend’s ring up to the light. A simple gold band, one side more worn than the other, but still beautiful. And so precious. She tucked it into her skirt pocket.

  Rubbing her arms to ward off the cold, she glanced up the staircase leading to the second-floor landing and recalled how she’d responded to Roland when he’d taken hold of her hand earlier. Why had she reached out to accept his hand in the first place? It felt as if her hand had moved of its own volition. The memory sent warmth coursing through her again. How could one man’s slightest touch stir such desire within her, while another’s kiss left her unmoved?

  Regardless of how or why, she owed Roland an apology. She should have told him early on that she was engaged. She would apologize to him, and she had no reason to think he wouldn’t accept that apology and be understanding. With that decision firmly made, she retraced her steps to the front door and set the lock.

  She passed through the farm office on her way to her bedroom, deep crimson stains still marring the carpet and upholstery, same as in the other rooms. With everyone pitching in to help, they’d wiped down the doors and wooden casings and wallpaper in the house as best they could. They’d also soaked up what they could from the carpet. She’d overhead Colonel and Mrs. McGavock discussing the need to replace the wallpaper and carpet throughout. Yet in the same breath Mrs. McGavock, ever practical, had commented how trivial all those niceties seemed at present.

  Lizzie agreed. Yet it had to be done. Much as she needed to return to teaching the children. But how did one return to normalcy after something like this?

  She opened the door to her bedroom and was relieved to discover Hattie and Winder already asleep. She smiled, seeing the book that lay open on the covers. Apparently they’d waited for her, but sleep had won out. She closed the novel and laid it aside on the table.

  She fetched her sewing box from the wardrobe and carefully tucked Towny’s mother’s ring into the corner for safekeeping. She’d expected to feel lighter inside somehow, having told him the truth about why she’d agreed to marry him. And she did, in a way. But still an unexplained heaviness remained.

  She changed into her gown and slipped into bed—nudging Winder over a bit—then turned down the light. Roland had said we. The course we are to take, Lizzie. He was going to help her find Thaddeus. When she’d seen the emotion welling in his eyes as he’d read the boy’s thoughts aloud, she’d been deeply moved. Especially knowing all he’d lost in his life. He’d been very much in love with his late wife, that much was clear from his reaction when she’d read Susan’s letter aloud. His wife had signed the letter Weet. A unique name. Perhaps a pet name he’d called her.

  Thinking of Susan’s letter turned her thoughts to the letter Captain Pleasant Hope had written. She’d wrestled to pen some words to Captain Hope’s widow that would offer comfort and hope, then included the note in an envelope along with the captain’s tender message to their child. Mrs. McGavock had posted the missive in town yesterday after calling for a second time upon the Carter family with condolences on Tod’s passing. Carrie McGavock knew the heartache that came with losing a child. She and the colonel had lost three of the five children born to them.

  Lizzie had been at Carnton serving as governess for only two years when sweet little Mary passed at the age of seven, the same age Winder was now. Mary had been such a gentle-natured girl. And it had scarcely been two years since twelve-year-old Martha died. Martha, so bright, so inquisitive and eager to learn. John Randal, the McGavocks’ firstborn son, had died several years before Lizzie arrived at Carnton, and had lived only a matter of months. Burying the McGavocks’ older girls had torn Lizzie’s heart in two.

  Carrie had once confided that every loss was different. Because each loss hurts and carves a hole inside you so deep you think it could never mend. And in truth it never does. Not really. But God promises that if you draw close to him, he’ll draw close to you. He’ll soothe that wo
und with his peace, comfort, and assurance. And with the firm hope of being with that beloved one again.

  Lizzie still couldn’t begin to imagine what that kind of loss felt like as a parent. And hoped she never would.

  Exhausted, she turned over, trying just as easily to turn off her thoughts. Sleep finally claimed her, and she dreamed she and Towny were children again, running through the fields, going hunting with Johnny, sitting by the creek plunking rocks. Then the dream shifted. She was older. She spotted someone in the distance. All she knew was that she had to get to him. She ran until her side ached and her lungs burned. But no matter how far she ran, or how fast, she couldn’t get any closer.

  Then she realized her feet were mired in mud thick as clay. She couldn’t move. And somehow the distance between them kept increasing. She tried to call out, but her voice wouldn’t carry. Until she awakened to earsplitting screams.

  CHAPTER 21

  Her heart pounding, Lizzie shot straight up in bed, then reached across Winder for Hattie. The girl’s high-pitched screams fragmented the darkness. Lizzie pulled her close. “Hattie! Wake up, dearest. Wake up!”

  The girl struggled against her. “Get it off me! Get it off!”

  “It’s Miss Clouston, Hattie. You’re safe. You’re here with me and Winder. In bed.” Lizzie shot a look at Winder, who stirred beside them but slept on. The boy could sleep through anything. “I’ve got you, dearest. Open your eyes.”

  Hattie finally stilled, her breath coming hard.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Miss Clouston! Is everything all right?”

  “Colonel—” Lizzie quickly arranged the bedcovers over her legs. “Yes, sir. Come in, please.”

  The door opened and Colonel McGavock stepped inside, oil lamp in hand.

  “It’s all over me, Miss Clouston.” Hattie ran her hands over her arms. “I can’t get it off.”

  The colonel moved closer. “Get what off, Hattie?”

  “The blood.” The girl hiccupped a sob. “It’s all over me.”