Widow of Gettysburg Read Free Page A

the warmth she felt in her face did not color her cheeks.
    “Necessary? Neither was your sharing your bread with me. But courtesy, kindness, and good manners are all necessary now more than ever.”
    “Thank you kindly, but I’m sure you have some place to be. Godspeed on your journey.” She waited for him to take his leave. But, rolling the brim of his hat in his hands, he remained planted in the doorway. Rain fell on the ground behind him, speckling his trousers with tiny flecks of mud.
    “I am sorry for your loss, truly.” His eyes probed her face, and she wondered if she looked sorry for her loss, too. Or just guilty. “How long’s it been? Since your husband died.”
    She swallowed. “Since the Battle of Bull Run. The first.”
    “Almost two years. You should be out of mourning soon.”
    Liberty stiffened. “If I so choose. Some widows wear black for therest of their lives.”
Will I forever be told what to do?
    “And bury yourself with the dead? I can’t imagine that kind of life for you.”
    Liberty stared at him. “I can’t imagine why in heaven’s name you—a perfect stranger—feel compelled to even comment on such a private matter! It’s not your place to judge.” She turned her back and pummeled the bread dough she’d left on the sideboard earlier that morning.
    “There’s enough death in this war as it is, ma’am.” His tone was tender, not spiteful. As hers had been. “Just when do you plan to come on back to the land of the living? There’s so much more to life than death, you know. Sure would hate for you to miss out on it.”
    An unwelcome tingle ran down her spine. “It’s not your concern.” She pounded the dough again.
    “Just remember what I said. There is more to life than death. Whatever happens. There is more.”
    “You speak in riddles.”
    “You’ll see soon enough.” He stepped outside, and Liberty followed, her doughy fingers gumming together in the rain. “If I were you, I’d go visit kinfolk somewhere else. And don’t come back for a few weeks.” As if she had family to visit. As if she had anyone at all, aside from her hired hands and her horse.
    Her mouth went dry. “What do you know?”
    “There’s trouble brewing.”
    “We’ve been hearing that for months.” But her pulse quickened at the intensity of his gaze. “You’re crying wolf along with the rest of them.”
    He looked down at her for a moment, as if testing his reply in his mind before speaking. “Don’t you remember? In the end, the wolf actually came.”
    “It will take more than a wolf to scare me off my farm.”
    The mysterious stranger shook his head and sighed. “Good day to you. Be well.” He held her in his gaze for a heartbeat before tipping his hat and fading back into the rain.

     
    Liberty’s heart thundered as she entered the farmhouse, still dripping with rain.
It could have been worse.
She told herself.
It could have been a raiding party.
    But it wasn’t. It was just a man passing through. Now if only his words weren’t still echoing in her mind.
    As she passed her bedroom on the way to the great hall, she caught a glimpse of herself in the looking glass on her bureau, and paused to weave an errant curl back into her braid.
    She walked closer to the mirror. At a mere five feet two inches short, if it wasn’t for the gentle curve of her waist and the way her corset filled out her bodice, she could pass for a tall child. She ventured a smile, and dimples popped into her cheeks. No one would guess she was old enough to be married, let alone widowed. But her sapphire blue eyes were shadowed by the valley of death the war had carved into her life.
    When do you plan to come on back to the land of the living?
    The question was, when would her conscience allow it?
    She picked up a framed daguerreotype of Levi in his new uniform and studied it. She was sure he had been told not to smile while they captured his image, but he couldn’t help it. He was so happy to fight for the