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to Mogollon as his prospective mail order bride. His next letter was so sweet. He included the money for my travel expense and said to come as soon as possible. I wasted no time preparing for this trip west, and I can hardly wait to meet him.”
    At that moment, Rhonda turned and looked at Lorna. “I sure hope it works out for you.”
    “Thank you,” said Lorna. “Rhonda was a mail order bride,” she said to the Denisons, “but it didn’t work out.”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Clara.
    “Did you bathe it in prayer beforehand?” queried the pastor.
    Rhonda shook her head stiffly. “I don’t believe in prayer, and I don’t want to talk about God.” With that, she turned to look out the window once again.
    Lorna shrugged as she looked at the Denisons and mouthed,
I tried to talk to her about the Lord, but she refuses to listen
.
    The Denisons nodded sadly.
    When the stage rolled into Holbrook, Lorna and the Denisons bid Rhonda good-bye, and she walked away with her cousin and her husband.
    Watching them go, Lorna said, “I wanted so desperately to reach her for the Lord, but she just wouldn’t listen.”
    “That’s always a heartbreaker,” said the pastor.
    Moments later, the stagecoach rolled out of Holbrook.
    Clara leaned close to Lorna and took hold of her hand. “Tell you what, honey—if it works out between you and Jack as we believe it will, I want to make your wedding dress for you. I’ve made them for several brides in our church. Will you let me do it?”
    Lorna’s face was beaming. “I sure will!”

2
    A S THE C IVIL W AR CONTINUED , the battles became fiercer and the bloodshed grew worse. Wives, mothers, sweethearts, and entire families of both the North and the South lived in constant dread that their men in uniform would never come home again.
    On Thursday morning, September 22, 1864, young Jenny Linden was behind the counter at Henderson’s General Store in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, waiting on a customer when she heard the door open and looked past the woman to see the delivery man from the
Harrisburg Journal
come in. He was carrying a stack of papers.
    Jenny handed the woman her change, and as she walked away, Jenny watched Wiley Owens place the stack of newspapers on the empty stand next to the counter. “Morning, Jenny,” said Wiley.
    “Is there bad news in the paper, Wiley?”
    Wiley licked his lips nervously. “Jenny, I know how you feel about Nate Conrad, and … ah … well, on the front page of the paper, there’s an article about a bloody battle that took place near Winchester, Virginia, on Tuesday. Over a hundred men were killed on each side. About twice as many were wounded. And … ah … well—”
    “What is it, Wiley?”
    Owens cleared his throat nervously. “Well, Jenny, some of Pennsylvania’s troops under the command of General William T.Sherman were involved in the battle, including Nate’s Seventh Pennsylvania Artillery.”
    Jenny’s features lost color. Her lips were moving, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out.
    Wiley stepped closer to her. “Jenny, just because there were many casualties in the battle doesn’t mean that Nate was one of them. I knew when you looked at the front page of the paper, you’d see that Nate’s unit was in the battle and that it would upset you.”
    A shaky hand went to Jenny’s mouth and tears filmed her eyes.
    “Jenny, you mustn’t let it get to you. You’ve got to hold on to the hope that Nate is all right, and one day when this awful war is over, he will come home to live out his natural life.”
    At that moment, Zack and Emma Henderson—the proprietors—came out of the office at the rear of the store, having heard Wiley’s words.
    Emma put an arm around Jenny and said, “Wiley’s advice is sound, honey. You’ve got to keep a positive attitude about Nate’s safety in the War, as well as your father’s.”
    Zack glanced at the stack of newspapers on the stand, then looked at Owens. “Wiley, was