Love Inspired Historical October 2013 Bundle: A Family for Christmas\The Secret Princess\Taming the Texas Rancher\An Unlikely Union (92 page)

How can that be?
he wondered.
One is keeping law and order, the other seeking freedom for those who break it.

Of course I forgive you. You are not my enemy.

Evan shook his head in disbelief. Emily Davis and her family, even the provost marshal’s office itself, may be able to forgive what had happened in this city, but he could not. He
would not.
The honor of his country and the future of the Union depended upon it.

* * *

“Well, that was a colossal waste of time,” Jacob remarked with a laugh as they returned to the carriage.

“Indeed it was,” Evan said, climbing into the seat. “What gives you the right to orchestrate an evening like that? Especially with a Baltimore woman?”

“There are a lot of good people in Baltimore,” he said. “I meant no harm. Simply a diversion, as all of today has been.”

Jacob gave the reins a click. The horse stepped out.

“You work too hard, young man, and you take this war much too personally.”

“Personally?” Evan said with a look of disbelief.

“Yes.” The old doctor cast him a concerned glance. “I know about your brother. We all do, in fact.”

An icy chill wrapped itself around him, threatened to steal his breath. How did Jacob know of Andrew? There was only one way he could think of. Emily had betrayed his confidence, perhaps not to the rebels, but to his own kind.

“I know from some of the boys in ‘The Washington Brigade,’” Jacob said as if he knew what Evan was thinking. “We crossed paths with them about a year ago.” He glanced at him again. “Don’t you remember?”

Evan didn’t remember seeing anybody from Andrew’s regiment since the funeral, but Turner was insistent.

“I know about Mary, as well,” he then said.

He felt the blood literally drain from his face. Evan wondered if the man also knew how he had treated his wife. Did he know he’d left her crying?

“I was assigned to cover your duties at the field hospital while you were on leave.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“No need. You returned after the funeral. I could tell you wanted to be left to yourself, so I respected your privacy. Respected it too long, I see now.”

The horse clip-clopped over the cobblestones. The carriage moved from lamplight to darkness and back again repeatedly. Evan felt it was a metaphor for his existence, brief moments of life quickly swallowed up by the blackness of death. Emptiness consumed him.

“Let it go, son,” Jacob said. “What happened to your brother, to your wife, was terrible, but you can’t blame it on every citizen of Baltimore.”

Deep down, Evan knew he was right.
Especially not Emily. It isn’t her fault.

“Have you a family, Jacob? I have never asked.”

The man displayed a proud smile. “I do. I have a beautiful wife, an equally beautiful unmarried daughter and two lovely daughters-in-law.”

“And your sons?”

The man’s jaw shifted and his voice lost its brightness. “Killed,” he said. “One at Antietam, the other at Fredericksburg.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say. Evan wondered if he had unknowingly come across the man’s sons. He had worked the field hospitals following both battles. “I am certain they fought valiantly.”

The gray-headed father nodded appreciatively. “I know they did, but it doesn’t make their loss any easier to bear.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

They were quiet for a moment. Jacob then spoke. “You see, my boy, I understand the anger you feel, but it will serve you no good purpose. You can’t go back in time and stop those stones from striking your brother. You will only end up killing yourself. Hatred is a poison to one’s veins. Let God cleanse you of it.”

He could feel that poison coursing through him even now. The thought of Andrew, of Jacob’s sons cut down in the prime of life, made his mouth sour, his muscles tense. He wanted justice. He wanted those rebs to die.

A battle raged inside him. He didn’t want to be filled with anger and hatred, but he could not stop what he was feeling. Sighing, he stared upward, past the flickering gas lamps to the inky black sky. It stretched vast, limitlessly above him.

God has so much more for you.

Is that true?
he wondered. Would the Almighty welcome him back, or had Evan exceeded his limit of grace?

* * *

The pale, pastel gowns of marriageable young women shimmered in the candlelight. Music and laughter drifted about the ballroom. Were it not for the sprinkling of blue frock coats among the guests, no one would believe the country was at war.

All Baltimore society had turned out for the Moffit family’s autumn gala. Emily found the witty banter and social maneuvering shallow and uninteresting but nevertheless, she smiled. She curtsied. She made polite conversation with each man who requested a dance. Yet as Emily moved about the floor, she wished with all her heart that she were back at the hospital. Even when faced with the worst—fevers and nightmares beyond her power to soothe—she had never felt half so useless there as she did here.

The only partner Emily truly enjoyed that evening was a Federal captain who repeatedly spoke of his home and sweetheart back in Maine.

“She has blue eyes just like yours,” he insisted. “And curls the color of gold.”

Her heart went out to him. He was so homesick. “And when are you to be married?”

“As soon as I get leave.”

“Then I hope your papers come quickly.”

“As do I.”

The orchestra finished the song. He bowed to her. “I thank you, miss.”

She honored him with a smile. “God keep you, Captain.”

The dance caller announced another waltz and the eldest Moffit son, David, came to claim her. Emily endured the dance. His polished phrases hinted at an interest in courtship, but thankfully she need not worry. The Moffits were slaveholders. David was one society man that her parents would not consider.

The music faded, and before he could offer her punch or chocolate, Emily excused herself and left the room. The orchestra was taking its final break. She stepped out on the veranda.

“There you are.”

Hearing her father’s voice, she turned happily. He had arrived late because of an impromptu meeting at the Barnum.

“Did your supper go well?” she asked.

“Yes. The provost marshal’s office saw reason.” He kissed her forehead, then frowned slightly. “The prettiest girl at the dance should not be the saddest. What is wrong?”

Emily tried to smile. She had been making quite the effort to do so all night. She did not want anyone, especially her parents, to think she was sulking.

“I was watching you just now,” he said. “You were doing quite fine convincing Mr. Moffit that you are enjoying yourself. But I am your father. I know the truth. Tell me. What is it?”

She slowly sighed. How could she tell him she did not wish for this kind of life? There were so many other things she thought more important. She looked down at her newly crafted ball gown. The lace, the ribbons and the intricate beading were beautiful. Her parents had insisted she have the new dress for this event. She knew they only had her best interest at heart. They wanted to make certain she secured a good match.

“I do not wish to sound ungrateful...”

“My dear, I would never think that of you.” He smiled, waited.

“It’s just when I think of my dress, my new slippers, I can’t help but wonder what price they would fetch.”

He blinked. “What price?”

“How many crates for the Christian Commission could be filled? How many pounds of potatoes could be purchased and distributed among the prison camps and hospitals?”

Her father chuckled. “If that is the case, then by all means, sell the items tomorrow. I will match your sum with a donation of my own.”

She looked up at him. “Truly?”

“Of course.”

He had always been unfailingly generous and had endured quite a bit of criticism over the years because of it. Some of his business associates still thought it obscene that he actually
paid
Joshua and Abigail to work for him.

“I should have known you would turn out this way,” he said. “I should have realized such the day you came home from church and announced you wished to travel to Indian territory. Do you remember that?”

“Yes. I was twelve. I wanted to deliver medical supplies and foodstuffs.”

“But the mission society wouldn’t take you because you were too young.”

“And female.”

He smiled. “Well, times are changing. There are more opportunities for women to serve.”

His expression then turned serious. Emily wondered where this conversation was leading.

“My dear, your mother and I would like nothing better than to see you settled here in Baltimore with a fine husband and a passel of children.” He paused. “But if you truly believe God is calling you to a different form of service, we will not stand in your way.”

For a moment all she could do was blink. Had he really just said what she thought?

Her father grinned. “Yes, you heard correctly.”

Emily was completely overwhelmed. Tears filled her eyes. She hugged her father tightly.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

She still had no indication what she was supposed to do next, but the freedom he was granting her was a gift as precious as a service opportunity itself.

Her father kissed the top of her head. “I will make some inquiries,” he promised. “See which missionary organizations are open to taking young women. But you must promise me this.” He raised her chin, looked into her eyes. “You will accept no commission without first giving the entire matter much thought and prayer.”

“I promise.”

The look he gave her at that moment almost made Emily want to settle in Baltimore and provide him and her mother with the grandchildren they so desired. For one quick second Evan Mackay passed through her mind but she pushed the thought away. No matter what feelings that man stirred within her, she would not pine.

Wherever You lead, Lord. And if I am to one day know a husband’s love, may he be a man after Your own heart. May he love others as much as he loves You.

“How many more dances have yet to be claimed?” her father asked.

Emily glanced at the card on her wrist. “Four.”

“Then by all means,” he said, motioning toward the ballroom. “Finish them so we may return home.”

Emily laughed and hugged him once more. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

Jacob said not another word until they reached Reverend Henry’s home. Upon entering, the minister and his wife greeted them warmly. They offered them coffee and apple pie in the parlor.

The couple was kind, trustworthy and likable in every sense of the word. Yet as usual, Evan was having a difficult time keeping focused on the conversation. Mrs. Henry must have sensed his mind was full.

“Perhaps Dr. Mackay would like to use the library,” she said to her husband.

“Why, yes,” the reverend said as he turned to Evan. “Would you?”

Solitude
was
what he wished for. After all that had happened today, all that was still spinning in his brain, Evan needed time to think. “Indeed, Reverend. Thank you.”

The same invitation was extended to Jacob, but he declined. “No. Thank you, anyway, but I
would
prefer another slice of pie.”

“By all means,” Mrs. Henry said with a smile.

Reverend Henry led Evan to a room at the back of the house. “I think you will find this to your liking. It is very quiet. I have written some of my best sermons here.”

“Quiet is good,” Evan said. “Not much of that in an army hospital.”

“No, there isn’t.”

He opened the door. The room was already lit by lamps and a small fire warmed the hearth. From floor to ceiling, books lined the shelves. Evan perused them. There were works of theology, literature and history.

“My home is yours, Dr. Mackay. Please, if there is anything you have need for, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Reverend.”

The man nodded and shut the door. Evan stood for a moment in the stillness, breathed in the silence. There were no reminders of battle, no orders to issue, no cries from the wounded. For the first time in two years, Evan was left completely alone with his thoughts.

It was a dreadful, frightening thing.

The war had left him with nightmares and scars. He knew the person he had once been, the townspeople’s physician, the churchgoing man, the one Mary had fallen in love with. He knew what he had become—angry, bitter, paranoid, alone.

He raked his fingers through his hair.

Let go of your hatred, Evan. God has so much more for you.

On the shelf before him, staring him straight in the face, was a Bible. Before his guilt, his fear of God’s rejection could stop him from doing so, he reached for it. Opening it at random, his eyes fell upon a passage in Ephesians.