Dear Readers,
When I first published the story I did not have the help of an editor. I knew I could work more on it and that the idea could be more developed. Then I received the volunteer help of an editor. I would like to say a BIG Thank You to Lindsey Marsh for her editorial help and review. She not only helped me with the grammar, but also made many wonderful additions to the original story line.
Thanks Lindsey, and hope to work with you again soon!
I changed the original story to include 3 parts in order to allow the better development of the characters.
This is Part One.
I hope you enjoy the changes.
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Part 1
Elizabeth awoke to the sound of a baby crying. Concerned that the other members of the household would also be awakened she hurried to the cradle, took the baby in her arms and murmured in his ear. As she calmed him she looked through the window at the arid landscape before her and, as she did, memories of the last few months flooded back to her. Her life had changed dramatically. Once a wife and mother with her own house in Georgia, she was now a widow living in Texas with her brother, her own son, Michael, and her brother's son, John Jnr. - the beautiful little baby she was nursing.
More than a year ago, the last of the US Civil War, she had become pregnant with her first child. Her husband, Peter, an officer in the Confederate Army, was fighting with his regiment in a desperate rearguard action, trying to stop the advance of the Yankee forces as they drove through Georgia on their way to Atlanta. During a brief lull in the fighting he had come home on leave and, worried about the prospect of the fighting threatening their home town, had sent her to her brother's cotton plantation in Tennessee so that she could have their baby in safety. On the plantation she had lived in relative tranquility with her sister-in-law Susan, while both her husband and brother fought the losing battle to save the Confederacy.
Peter died four months later during the battle for Atlanta, leaving her a twenty-two year old widow with a one month old baby. John, her elder brother, although slightly wounded, had survived the war and had returned to Tennessee. At first she was devastated by her husband's death but, gradually, with the support of her brother and his wife her life began to assume a semblance of normality. The respite was short-lived as, six months later, tragedy struck again when Susan died while giving birth to her first child, a son.
Like his sister John was devastated by his spouse's death, to the extent that Elizabeth had feared for a time that her brother was losing his will to live. In his grief he had ignored his son and it was left to Elizabeth, who was still breastfeeding her own son, to look after her nephew, breastfeeding him and treating him as her own.
This time it was Elizabeth who provided support for her brother and, as had happened with his sister, he gradually came to accept his wife's death. The only time he found it difficult to forget was in the evening, when he was sitting in the parlour after his evening meal. When his wife was alive they had used this time to sit and talk about their day and their plans for the future. Sitting alone or with his sister he found it difficult to accept that his wife would never be there to talk with him again. In a final effort to overcome the pain he did something he never thought he would do; he put the plantation, which had been in his family for three generations, up for sale. In less than a month the plantation was sold to a neighbour and, with the proceeds from the sale and Elizabeth's inheritance from Peter's estate, he was able to buy a sizable cattle ranch in Texas near to its boundary with Arkansas.
John was seven years older than his sister; the product of their mother's first marriage and, according to their mother, had inherited his father's looks. Elizabeth had her mother's eyes but, like her brother, looked like her father, an Irishman who had charmed and married her mother five years after her first husband had died. Their personalities and appearances were totally different. John was a large, muscular man with brown hair and grey eyes and a quiet demeanour but, when aroused, was capable of a violent temper. Elizabeth was small and vivacious with creamy skin, fair hair that smelled of jasmine and smiling, sky blue eyes.
At first things went well. The ranch, which they had named 'Hope' in the belief that it offered them the opportunity for a new life and a new beginning, had good grazing and water, the herd had prospered and the farmhouse had proven to be comfortable, if not luxurious. They had lived in harmony with Elizabeth running the house with the assistance of their housekeeper, Mrs. Bennett, and John running the ranch. All their lives Elizabeth and her brother had got along well although, like most elder brothers, he was a little possessive of her, but as he had always been like that she had grown used to his ways. Then, six months after moving, things changed.
They had made it their custom to travel once a month to the nearest town to buy supplies and do their banking. On this occasion she was excited as it was over a year since Peter's death and, by convention, this meant that she no longer had to wear dull mourning clothes. She had dressed in what had been her husband's favourite gown. A sky blue, it fitted her perfectly, emphasising her slim figure and matching the colour of her eyes. She had arranged her hair in a loose bun on top of her head and had completed her outfit with a little blue hat that matched her dress. As she climbed into the wagon and sat at her brother's side he looked at her with a shocked expression making her laugh but her amusement was cut short when, after surveying her from head to toe, he frowned and said,
"Elizabeth, what's the meaning of this? Why are you dressed as if you're going to a party? We're not going to a ball!"
Furious at his attitude, she answered,
"I'm not dressed to go to a party, you fool! When Peter was alive I often wore this gown, even when we went to church, and he never once complained. On the contrary, whenever I wore it he always said that it matched the colour of my eyes and that it made me look beautiful!"
Without answering, he turned away and set the wagon off in the direction of town.
