Everlasting Light - A Civil War Romance Novella Read Online Free Page B

gray pants supported by suspenders. As he neared the house, she got a clear view of his battered, gray cap and the blue kerchief tied to a long stick that he carried over his shoulder.
    “Ezekiel,” she breathed in recognition. Reality set in. “Zeke!” With renewed spirit, she ran to greet him. “Zeke, is that really you?”
    “Miz Laina!” He flashed his infamous wide grin. “It shore is me. And you’s a sight for sore eyes!”
    For the first time in months, Alaina laughed. “Where have you been?”
    “Been ever’where, I reckon.” A look of sadness suddenly filled his eyes. “I been ever’where and nowhere, but now I’m home.”
    “I’m so glad to see you.” She squeezed his bear-like hand before falling into step alongside him all the way up to the house. By then she’d worked up the courage to form the supreme question. “Have you seen Braeden?”
    They stopped at the front porch.
    “You mean he ain’t home?”
    Alaina shook her head and the familiar sadness plumed inside of her.
    Zeke’s broad shoulders sagged. “Last I saw him it was nigh onto a year ago. He got hisself shot at the railroad station in Virginia. Looked pretty bad, but he weren’t dead when I seen ’im. I stopped to help, but Braeden tole me to keep goin’. He said, ‘Git outa here, Zeke, afore you git your fool head blowed off.’ I tole him I wouldn’t leave him. I pulled ’im over to the brush near the tracks an’ I lays down beside him like I’s dead.” A sad smile crossed the black man’s face. “Well, the war done went on ’round us, and by some miracle o’ God, we didn’t git ourselves kilt. Come nightfall, it looked like the Yankees won that fight. Them mean ol’ Blue-bellies come walkin’ down the tracks like they owned ’em, kickin’ bodies to see if’n they’s really dead. They come to us, and they give Mistah Braeden a kick. He yelped like a hound, so the soldiers done took him ’way and put ’im in a wagon. An’ that’s the last I seen ’im.”
    “Braeden got captured?”
    “I reckon so.”
    The flicker of hope inside of Alaina dwindled. “We should have been notified. We should have been told.”
    “Shouldda is right. But in this war, nothin’s like it should be.”
    Heavy-hearted, Alaina sagged onto the porch steps.
    “I shore is sorry to tell you.”
    “I know you are.” She barely eked out the words.
    The front door opened and Mama McKenna stepped from the house. “I thought I heard voices … Zeke!” Unfamiliar delight filled her voice. “You’re home!”
    “I shore am, Miz Ellie. I shore am!”
    ******
    By evening, the tantalizing aroma of venison stew drifted from the cookhouse and seemed to permeate every corner of the farm. Alaina and Mama McKenna had worked most of the day, butchering and curing the deer meat. They wrapped up portions for Pastor Pritchard and his family, along with Braeden’s sister, Suzanna, and her clan. Then Michael and Zeke delivered the goods, but they made quick work of it and returned by suppertime.
    “My, but this looks like a feast!” Michael declared after Alaina set his plate down before him. “God truly sees after our needs.”
    “Amen!” Zeke exclaimed, and Alaina dished up a plate for him too. When she handed it to him, he said, “Thank yo’, Miz Laina, and now I’ll just be goin’ to eat out on the back po’ch.”
    He got as far as the door before Papa McKenna halted him. “Wait! I want you to eat with us here at the table.”
    Zeke turned, his dark eyes wide with disbelief. “But Mistah Jonathan, that ain’t fittin’. No Negro oughta eat with whites at the suppah table!”
    Papa McKenna expelled a weary-sounding sigh. “You went off to war with my sons, Zeke. Sure, I know that you were first employed with the cavalry as a servant, but it wasn’t long before they put a gun in your hand too. Your blood’s the same color as theirs—as mine.”
    Zeke hung his head sadly. “I shore am sorry for yo’ loss of all them boys