Not Forsaken

LaPorte, Indiana September 5, 1868

Take a breath—this is what you wanted.

Anna Michaels’s fingers dug into the neck of her cloak. She could feel her brother’s hand on the small of her back, urging her into the foyer of the festive brick mansion. Stringed instruments sighed and yawned in the night air, breathing a steady 1-2-3.

Surely, the drumming in Anna’s chest would announce her arrival before she swept into the ballroom. He would be in there, Captain Justin Slater.

Would he still see her as a child, the way he used to?

Not if she could help it! Of course, she would pay dearly for wearing the audacious gown. Too late to back out now.

“Oh, heavens,” she whispered, her hands moving down her middle. Now was not the time to be sick.

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“Are you all right, Ann?” Anna turned to see her older brother, Ethan staring at her, his brow wrinkled in concern. She had forgotten him for only a moment. She renewed her hold on the cloak. “You look a little green around the gills.” He cupped her shoulder and squeezed gently.

Anna did not dare look into his eyes. Ethan saw too much. “A bit nervous I suppose, Ethan.” She allowed her gaze to fall to the smudge on her shoe. She had forgotten to buff it out.

“Understandable.” He moved behind to take her cloak.

Not yet! If he saw the gown, it would all be over. “Oh, I-I’m still a bit chilled, Ethan, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” His hand brushed down her arms. He turned her to face him before his hands fell away. “He’ll think you are beautiful, Ann, don’t worry.”

“I hope so, Ethan.” Anna felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She turned her face away but Ethan caught her chin and turned her back with a gentle finger.

“Have I ever lied?” Ethan grinned.

“No.” She returned his smile. “Not even in jest.”

Ethan gave her a peck on the cheek. The familiar scent of pine tar filled her nostrils. Even after all her efforts, urging him toward lemongrass. “The idea is to smell clean, Ann, not to awaken the senses.” She wondered whether she should tell her brother that just being near a man awakened a woman’s senses.

Ethan shucked down the edges of his coat. “I’ll see you inside when you are ready then.”

Anna nodded. “All right.”

Ethan’s boots clicked on the marbled foyer as he moved toward the large double doors of the ballroom. He turned once and winked with a smile then vanished inside.

Anna charged into the coatroom, releasing her death grip on her cloak, wondering why a servant was not there to take her garment. A bit of fluff sailed to the floor before she snatched it up again. How quickly she had forgotten the modest lacework. Anna rolled it around her fingers, tempted to tuck it into her neckline. Don’t be such a ninny, girl! With a grunt, she stuffed the lace back in the cloak along with any idea of modesty.

Anna peered around the door as the orchestra struck up another waltz. The only intruder in the hall now was the muffled music. She inspected her dress for the last time.

Anna had chosen the dark-blue satin peplum because it made her eyes flash more vibrantly. The contrasting yellow and white layers of silk underskirt and elaborate laces shouted of costly intricacies, while the blue satin over-skirt scalloped nicely, trimmed with delicate fringe. With her corset, a tight fitting bodice, and the mounds of soft flesh above the neckline, Anna knew she would lay claim to Justin’s attentions this time. Oh, it would cost her dearly when her brother noticed. Yet, what worth had a few pennies of ridicule when balanced against the wages of love?

Tonight, beauty would follow her as surely as it followed her friend, Madison Ward. If only she could toss away that squirming, niggling feeling inside her gut! This is the only way. Releasing her white and blue silk fan with a loud thrump, Anna took another deep breath, and plunged into the merriment.

She’s well looked after father,” said a tall man from the shadows of the building. “Not that well looked after.” The large walrus of a man leaned his cleaver eye against the windowpane of the brick mansion, smiling like a snake about to strike.

Finding a wife took only one good hand and two good feet. Justin had the one hand. He would have preferred the both.

How engaging the sight of each drop of blood that dripped from the wound in his other hand down into the basin on his washstand. He had to chuckle at himself or this might discourage him from his quest tonight.

What’s a little blood to soldiers and lunatics?

He certainly was not calling himself a lunatic.

When Walter Miral, his supposedly faithful scout, led he and his men into that ambush three years ago—Justin would have strung him up, bled him and shouted pass the goblet—Had he been able to get his hands on Miral that is.

But God had a way of changing a man.

He prayed it would not be long before someone caught up with Miral and brought him to justice. Too much innocent blood had spilt over Miral’s senseless thirst for vengeance.

Twenty-three dead for the sins of one man.

It had been hard to reconcile, but the Lord had been faithful. Revenge was not as palatable as it once had been. The greatest pain of it all belonged to his second in command. Had Lt. Seth Wells’ oldest son given his life for his country it would have been one thing, but murdered over one man’s vengeance against another…an entirely different evil. Eventually, Miral would have to answer for it.

Today, however, he would not think upon it. Today was a day for normalcy and for his men to enjoy life once again. “Lord, they sure do need it,” whispered Justin, exhaling the old frustration that loathed releasing him.

Justin wrapped a strip of cloth around the cleansed wound, dropped himself onto the bed, relieving yet another minor irritation from the week—a banged up leg. Next time he would be more careful to check the cinch strap before mounting his horse. And perhaps a bit more careful in the packing of his razor.

Now, to figure out how to get dressed. The pressed uniform jacket hung from a peg near his door. He would, at the very least, look clean for his guests. He might not have gone at all had the Ward’s not attributed the party in him and his men’s honor.

The face of a young girl with light colored hair sauntered across Justin’s mind. She had been doing that a lot lately—with increasing frequency. It made no sense why he would ponder the subject. She could only be…what…sixteen now? Too young for him, besides…a wholesome young girl like Anna Michaels did not stay single for long. Her brother had even hinted at such an arrangement in his last letter.

“Lieutenant!” Justin would just have to swallow his pride have Wells dress him. As for Anna—best lay that one to rest.