Everlasting Light - A Civil War Romance Novella

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Authors: Andrea Boeshaar

Tags: #Romance, #civil war romance, #fiction, #civil war

BOOK: Everlasting Light - A Civil War Romance Novella
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Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Everlasting Light

A Civil War Novella

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everlasting Light

A Civil War Novella

 

By

Andrea Boeshaar

 

 

 

 

 

Everlasting Light By Andrea Boeshaar

Published by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas

2333 Barton Oaks Dr., Raleigh, NC, 27614

 

ISBN 978-1-938499-68-5

Copyright © 2013 by Andrea Boeshaar

Cover design by Wisdom House Book:
www.wisdomhousebooks.com

 

 

Available in print from your local bookstore, online, or from the publisher at: www.lighthousepublishingofthecarolinas.com

 

For more information on this book and the author visit: www.andreaboeshaar.com

 

All rights reserved. Non-commercial interests may reproduce portions of this book without the express written permission of Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas, provided the text does not exceed 500 words. When reproducing text from this book, include the following credit line: “Everlasting Light by Andrea Boeshaar published by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas. Used by permission.”

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Boeshaar, Andrea.

Everlasting Light / Andrea Boeshaar

1st ed.

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

To my sons, Rick & Brian, both military veterans—

And two of my heroes!

May God be a lamp unto your feet

and an everlasting light unto your paths.

 

Chapter 1

December, 1865

 

 

 

Desolation. Gray and bleak. As far as the eye could see.

Standing on the covered porch of her in-laws’ large farmhouse, Alaina Dalton McKenna hugged a knitted shawl more tightly around her and gazed across the ravaged land. Her heart ached.
Yankees. I hate every last one of them.

Even as the thought formed, Alaina could hear Reverend Pritchard’s voice last Sunday, commanding his congregation to “love your enemies.” But that, of course, was easier said than done. Charleston lay in ruins, Fort Sumter had been abandoned by the Confederate army, and much of Columbia had been burned beyond recognition. Surely this was the end of the world.

Looking toward the orchard, Alaina couldn’t fight back tears as she viewed the charred peach trees. Their skeletal remains added even more barrenness to the dull winter landscape. Why did they have to burn everything?

Last February when Sherman’s troops made their march from Savannah to the sea, they hit South Carolina particularly hard, since the war had started in the state. The Yankees set fire to everything in their paths. The prosperous McKenna farm in Richland County had been no exception. As her mother-in-law, Eloise McKenna, said, it was a miracle their house still stood, proud and erect. Their barn, animals, equipment, and outbuildings were gone. All gone. However, this past summer, they had been able to grow a few crops, which would keep them from starving to death this winter.

If only Braeden would come home.
She yearned for her missing husband.
He’d know what to do.

A familiar bout of melancholy enveloped her as Alaina stepped off the porch only to meet a gust of cold wind that tugged at her dark skirt. Shivering, she strolled down the winding dirt pathway to where a pretty, white picket fence once stood, separating the McKenna property from the road. Only a scant few fence posts remained of it now—another visible wound brought upon this farm and family by those wretched Blue-bellies! Except Alaina supposed the McKennas had fared much better than most in these parts, and she forced herself to be thankful that she at least had a roof over her head. If Braeden would come home, she’d be more than thankful. She’d be absolutely ecstatic!

Glancing down the dusty road, she barely had the strength to combat disappointment. She saw no shadowy figure of her gallant cavalryman husband in the distance, riding home from war. Only more desolation of the countryside.

Oh, God, please bring Braeden home. Please bring him home for Christmas.

Emptiness swelled inside of her, and Alaina wondered why she bothered to petition the Almighty. He didn’t seem to hear her. God must surely be a Northern sympathizer. Still, she clung desperately to the last remnants of her faith and held fast to her memories. The past helped her endure the present.

She inhaled deeply and gave her mind free rein. Beloved images mingled with tears as she thought back five short years ago, to a simple, serene time before this nightmarish war ever began …

******

“You got an invitation!” twelve-year-old Rebecca shrieked, running through the six-room farmhouse and bursting into the kitchen.

Alaina dropped the dough she’d been kneading. “An invitation? Me?”

Breathless, her younger sister stopped in front of her and held out the elegantly folded envelope. “It just came. Open it. Quick. I want to know what it says.”

“No doubt it’s from Jennifer Marie Stokes.”

Rebecca frowned slightly. “She’s that rich planter’s daughter, isn’t she? The one Mama said ain’t worth an ounce of your attention.”

“Oh, now, Jennifer Marie isn’t all that bad.” Alaina wiped the sticky bread dough from her hands and took the proffered invitation. “She’s just lonely and needs a friend. She says I saved her life, and I suppose that’s true, but—”

“Mama said that pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall and that Jennifer Marie Stokes is headed right that way. That’s what Mama said.”

“Hush,” Alaina scolded, “or I won’t tell you what my invitation says.”

Rebecca clamped her mouth shut while Alaina tore at the embossed paper. Although her family was what South Carolinians referred to as
plain white folk
, Alaina and her sister had been taught to read and write.

Scanning the printed type on the invitation now, excitement gathered like a snowball rolling downhill. “I have been invited to Jennifer Marie’s eighteenth birthday party.”

“Mama won’t let you go. There’ll be dancing, and Mama says dancing is a sin.”

“I won’t dance. I’ll just watch everyone else.”

“She won’t let you go.”

“Yes, she will, but don’t you dare say a word about it. It’s my invitation and I’ll do the asking. Promise?”

Rebecca shrugged a slender shoulder and tossed her walnut curls over it. “All right. I promise, but just because you’re my only sister, and I love you dearly.”

Alaina leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the girl’s cheek.

In the end, she had somehow convinced both her parents to allow her to attend the party. Before she knew it, she was on her way to the Stokes’ plantation, riding in a luxurious buggy Jennifer Marie had sent for her, complete with a lady’s maid for an escort.

It was a half-day’s journey from the Dalton farm to the Stokes’ plantation, but Alaina was filled with such anticipation that she barely noticed the ruts in the road that threatened to jangle her bones from their joints. Once she arrived, Jennifer Marie insisted she nap before preparing for the party that evening. However, Alaina felt too excited to rest, and she dressed carefully, donning a new gown she’d sewn for this occasion.

“Oh, now, honey, you can’t wear that old thing!” Jennifer Marie frowned at Alaina’s simple blue dress with its high neckline and lacy white collar.

Embarrassment gripped her. “I can’t?”

“You look like a ten year old in that outfit. Here …” Jennifer Marie led Alaina to her ornate wardrobe and threw open its doors. “Choose one of my gowns. Perhaps this lilac creation will adequately complement your fair complexion.”

“I couldn’t possibly wear one of your beautiful dresses.” Alaina gazed longingly at it.

“Why not?” Jennifer Marie’s delicate blonde brows raised in surprise.

“Because it’s … it’s too …
beautiful
.”

Jennifer Marie laughed. “You goose. I own only beautiful things. Look around you. Is this room not the most exquisite bedchamber you’ve ever seen?”

“It is indeed.” Alaina’s gaze fell on the four-poster canopy bed with its yellow satiny comforter. The same sunny material hung across the long mahogany windows which overlooked the vast cotton fields beyond the mansion.

“Lending you my favorite gown is the least I can do.” Jennifer Marie patted her elegantly coiffed blonde ringlets. “After all, you saved my life that day in town and I shall never forget your kindness.”

“You have more than repaid me.” Alaina vividly recalled the incident in which she’d pulled Jennifer Marie out of harm’s way as a runaway wagon careened down the main street of Columbia.

“I haven’t even begun to repay you.” Jennifer Marie’s hazel eyes sparkled with adoration. “You are my very best friend, Alaina Dalton.” She leaned closer. “I have a big surprise for you tonight.”

“For me? But it’s your birthday party.”

Jennifer Marie laughed, sounding like a twittering little bird. “Change quickly and you’ll see what I have planned.” With that, she left the room in a billow of pink taffeta.

Feeling uncertain, Alaina removed her simple frock and allowed Jennifer Marie’s maid to help her into the lilac-colored gown with its wide hoop skirt. Much to her delight, it fit perfectly, although the neckline was much too low to be considered modest. If Mama saw her, she’d have a fit! But it surely was the most gorgeous thing Alaina had ever set eyes on. Looking into the mirror, she tugged upward on the bodice. Well, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to wear this dress just this once.

Music from the string ensemble downstairs floated to her ears just as Jennifer Marie reentered the room. She gasped in delight. “You look marvelous! I just knew that dress would be perfect for you. Nita,” Jennifer Marie ordered the lovely, dark-skinned girl, “fix Miss Alaina’s hair.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s not necessary,” Alaina replied, but to no avail. So she allowed the young maid to pin up her hair in the most enchanting way. Alaina gaped in disbelief at her reflection.

“Is that really me?”

“Yes, it is.” Jennifer Marie clasped her hands together. “I can’t wait to see Braeden’s face when you walk downstairs with me.”

Alaina froze. “Braeden? Who’s that?”

A hint of a blush crossed her friend’s dainty features. “He’s my first cousin on my mother’s side, and he’s plain white folk, just like you.”

Alaina was immediately thrust back into reality. She didn’t belong here, being waited on by servants or wearing this dress. Who was she fooling?

“Oh, now, I can see I insulted you. I didn’t mean to.” Jennifer Marie set a sisterly arm around Alaina’s shoulders. “I only said that about Braeden so you’d feel more comfortable when you meet him.” Jennifer Marie smiled warmly. “He’s a handsome rascal. I know you’ll like him. That’s my surprise. I want you to meet my charming cousin.” Walking to her bureau, Jennifer Marie lifted her puff from its container and began powdering Alaina’s skin. “You simply must stay out of the sun, honey. You are freckling something awful.”

Alaina coughed and waved away the cloud of white dust. Then, before she could utter a single protest, she was whisked from the room.

******

“Alaina!”

A deep male voice hailed her from her musings, and Alaina realized she was ambling down the road toward the river. Looking to her right, she saw her neighbor, Michael Wheeler, running toward her. Concern was etched upon his dark features. Michael. Dear, sweet Michael.

“Alaina! Where are you going?” He caught up to her, panting from his sprint across the wide front yard of his home, which stood in sorry disrepair. Bit by bit, Michael was restoring it in spite of the fact he was missing a limb. He’d lost his left arm in the War. “Alaina?” He took hold of her elbow.

“I got lost in thought, Michael. I must have walked off aimlessly.”

An expression of understanding crossed his handsome face. Still, he gave her a mild reprimanding. “It’s not safe for you to walk off alone, Lain.”

She sighed. “I know …”

“Any word from Braeden?”

“None.” Her heart sank. “And I know what you’re going to say, so save your breath.”

Michael shook his head, looking chagrined.

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