In the Morning Sun (Hearts at War Book 2) Page 8

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Madeline. You’re a bright and capable teacher. If you can handle these adults, you can handle their babies.” Ophelia patted her arm reassuringly. “Trust me. They are a lot less scary than you think.”

  Madeline stared down at the children, some were as young as four and as old as six. Their round, innocent faces looked back up at her with eyes like big, chocolate pools of curiosity and wonder.

  Between Teresa and Ophelia, Madeline had a drafted lesson planned for the young ones. She had all the supplies and tools she needed, yet she couldn’t seem to make herself speak.

  Pull yourself together, Madeline Asher.

  “Hello, children. My name’s Miss Maddie and I’ll be your teacher today.”

  One of the children raised his hand and Madeline pointed to him.

  “Yes?”

  He lowered his hand. “Where’s Miss Sherry?”

  Madeline ran her palms down her skirt and gave the children a wide smile that strained her lips. “Miss Sherry is taking a break from teaching right now, but she will be back soon. And I know when she gets back, she’ll be happy to see you all.”

  The little boy raised his hand again.

  Madeline’s forced smile remained. “Yes.”

  “I heard my daddy say the white man got her. That she’s not coming back to Dunesville, like the others.”

  Madeline opened her mouth and shut it again, not sure exactly what to say, she didn’t want to give them false promises and tell them that Sherry would be okay and back to work. She didn’t know that—no one did. Everyone in the small community was on edge over what had happened to Sherry and Eldridge, but how could Madeline expose such young children to that ugliness? She didn’t think she could take away their bright-eyed innocence by telling them the truth of what kind of world they lived in.

  And what kind of world they would grow into.

  Before Madeline could find her words, the little boy raised his hand yet again. Madeline’s smile slipped and she stifled a groan.

  “Yes?”

  “Where did the white man take Miss Sherry? I can go find her. My mama said I’m brave just like my daddy. When I get bigger I’m going to be a soldier like him too.”

  At the young boy’s words, warm tenderness spread through Madeline. That had to be the most endearing thing she had ever heard.

  “What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “Ben.”

  “And how old are you, Ben?”

  He held out his hand with all five fingers displayed.

  “Can anyone tell me how many fingers Ben’s holding up?”

  A chorus of fours and fives rang out. A lone one followed. Madeline stifled a laugh.

  “It looks like we have a lot of work to do with our numbers. Why don’t we all keep Miss Sherry in our prayers tonight, and start practicing our numbers?”

  In no time, Madeline found her groove with the children, going through the lesson plan with little disruption. Teaching children was so much different than teaching her adult class. She found their young minds fascinating, like wide, blank canvases demanding to be filled. They asked questions after questions and she was astounded by the energy their little bodies held. Watching them filled her with such wonder—and an incredible longing.

  Pushing her wayward emotions aside, Madeline concentrated on her new lot of eager students. Eventually, the end of a long day came and Madeline waited as parents and relatives came to fetch their young ones. The only student left behind was one of the shy girls. She remembered the little girl’s name was Rosie, but couldn’t remember the girl speaking more than three words all day.

  The girl sat on the front steps, her school bag looped around her small shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a lopsided ponytail with a bright green ribbon tied at the end.

  “Rosie, is your mama coming to get you?”

  The little girl shook her head. “I don’t have a mama. Papa’s supposed to come but he’s always late.”

  Madeline settled down on the steps beside her. “Then I’ll wait here with you.”

  Silence settled between them as the girl appeared to count the cracks on the steps beneath them. Rosie seemed content with that distraction, yet Madeline felt she should say something. She had thought she had managed to get beyond her awkwardness where the young children were concerned, but she realized she was better at dealing with them in groups.

  She had no idea what to say to a young girl who reminded her so much of herself at that age.

  Madeline remembered a time in her life when she had wanted to work with young colored girls. Whether it was mentoring or teaching, she had wanted to be the kind of inspiration Frances Harper and many other colored women had been in her life. She, too, hadn’t grown up with a mother—only with an older sister who had been content in living a simple, uneventful life with her husband. Madeline, however, had met and gotten to volunteer with some inspirational women in her earlier life that had molded her into the woman she had grown to be.

  Yet, in this moment, she couldn’t find anything to say to a young girl like Rosie. Madeline knew better than anyone how important it was for young girls to have people to look up to. Maybe in some distant past, she could have been that woman, but not anymore. Not after what she had done.

  Still, Madeline couldn’t help but wonder what kind of woman would little Rosie grow to be? What kind of life would she lead?

  “Rosie?”

  They both glanced up to find a tall, lean man rushing toward them.

  “Papa.”

  Rosie got up and started down the steps before she suddenly stopped and climbed back up them to where Madeline still sat. The young girl threw her little arms around her, and for a moment, Madeline sat there, frozen. She was surprised and confused by the unexpected embrace, but she managed to snap out of it and returned the girl’s hug.

  Rosie eventually pulled away and flew down the steps to her father. She gave him a big hug as he lifted her into his arms.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, missus,” he said, a bit chagrin. “It was my job and—”

  “Please don’t worry yourself,” Madeline interrupted. “Rosie’s a sweet girl. It was no trouble at all.”

  The man nodded then started down the path, away from the school. Rosie turned back to her, waving widely.

  “Bye, Miss Maddie!”

  Madeline lifted her hand and waved back, a sudden lump forming in her throat. She didn’t know if the sudden wave of emotion crashing through her was from the tenderhearted embrace she had done nothing to deserve or from the many hugs she would miss out on.

  As Madeline walked back to her cabin, she thought about how different her life would be right now, if she had been strong enough to face her fears.

  She stepped into her small cabin and shut the door behind her. It was only then that she allowed herself to give into her tears, crying for the child she would never get to meet—and for the absolution one little girl’s hug had offered her.

  Chapter Eight

  Thank God for the little children, when our skies are cold and gray. They come as sunshine to our hearts, and charm our cares away.

  A hard knock came at her cabin door and Madeline glanced up from the poem she had been reading. She didn’t know what she hoped to find in Frances Harper’s poem of mothers appreciating and protecting their babes. It did nothing to ease her forlorn mood.

  The knock came again and she rested the book down on the bed beside her. Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, Madeline padded to the door. She knew who stood on the other end. Though she wasn’t feeling up for company, she knew James wouldn’t leave if she tried to avoid him.

  Madeline pulled open the door and the warm smile that was on his lips fell away.

  “Maddie, are you ill?”

  She shook her head. Though her students in her evening class had asked her the same thing. She had barely been able to concentrate on their lesson, and after a painfully long session, she had dismissed them early, feigning a heada
che. She believed some rest and time alone would ease the real ache in her heart.

  “I’m just tired. I know we were supposed to have supper together this evening, but can we do so another night?”

  “Yes, of course,” he murmured, regarding her closely. “Have you been crying?”

  She glanced away, not wanting to lie to him, but not ready to answer the questions that would surely come if she admitted the truth.

  “Maddie?”

  “Jimmy, it’s late and I would really like to get back to bed.”

  “Can I least come in for a bit?”

  She stepped back and let him in, not wanting to be rude to him, no matter how she felt. Yet, she found herself in a strange mood. Though he had done nothing to invoke these feelings, just the sight of him agitated her.

  He came in and looked around. She realized this was the first time he had been back inside her sleeping quarters since that first day he had reappeared in her life. For some reason, the small cabin felt stifling with him there.

  “I’m going into town tomorrow,” James began. “To talk to the sheriff.”

  Her brows rose in curiosity. “Why?”

  “The reverend thought it would help. I heard about what happened to your friend and it seems there’s been quite a few crimes around here that the sheriff has failed to look into. Something has to be done.”

  Madeline tightened the shawl around her. Mustering up hope that the bigoted sheriff would suddenly care about the citizens of Dunesville, or actually bring the attackers terrorizing them to justice, was not something she was interested in indulging tonight.

  Tonight, she was all out of faith and hope to give.

  “You believe you can convince him to investigate this latest attack?”

  James shrugged. “It can’t hurt to ask him about what’s being done to find the men behind this. It’ll just get worst if these attacks continue to go unchecked. And all I can think about is what if that had been you.”

  “What if it had been? You wouldn’t be able to protect me. Just like you weren’t there when—”

  Madeline snapped her mouth shut not sure where any of that had come from. She couldn’t blame him for what had happened to her. It was no one’s fault except the monster who had chosen to violate her and the man who had literally turned his back on her while his friend tied her down. And it was her fault for being so gullible and foolish enough to wait for a man to save her.

  Yet, in her raw emotional state, Madeline realized there was a secret part of her that did blame James. He should have been there for her; he should have come back to her. Madeline turned away from him.

  Where were you when I needed you the most?

  He came up behind her. “I would never let anything happen to you, Maddie,” he said, his voice rough. “As long as I have breath, I will always protect you.”

  She shook her head slowly. “You don’t have to protect me, Jimmy. I can protect myself. I have been for some time now.”

  He was silent for a moment before he said tightly, “You say that as if you don’t need me.”

  She turned to face him then. “I don’t.”

  His brows pulled together as surprise and hurt flashed in his eye. In that moment, she wished she could take back what she said. But then maybe this was the moment she needed to finally send him away. He deserved happiness and the kind of future they had both dreamed of… a dream she had given up on a long time ago.

  “Maddie, where is all this coming from? We love each other and—”

  “I had an abortion.”

  A painful silence fell between them as he stared at her with what looked like numb shock. She had not planned to be so graceless with her words, but with a secret sin so great, she didn’t know how else to say it.

  “Was it…was it mine?”

  She winced at the low harshness in his voice. She didn’t fault him for thinking that. They had made love that very night before he went off to enlist.

  “No, it wasn’t yours.”

  His body was still rigid before her. “Whose, then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A look of surprise and disbelief moved across his face. Without warning, he grabbed her arm and jerked her towards him.

  “I don’t believe you! I know you, Maddie. You wouldn’t let any man into your bed unless you wanted him there.”

  She wrenched her arm from his grip and stepped away. “You’re right. I wouldn’t, but in this world, it doesn’t matter what a woman wants because there will always be some brute who believes just because he can, he can tie a woman down and force himself on her. Again and again.”

  James’ face was pale and stark with emotion.

  “That’s whose baby I carried inside me for three months, until I could no longer stomach the thought of carrying it a minute longer. I didn’t care about anything, not my soul or my faith. I just wouldn’t—I couldn’t—bear the child of a monster!”

  A heavy stillness settled in the room. Madeline kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself as her heart raced in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t look at him, regretting her thoughtless outburst. She had said too much. But then again, now he knew her darkest secrets and maybe it was for the best.

  “Maddie…”

  He reached for her. She jerked back.

  “No, I don’t want your pity or your sympathy. What’s done is done and nothing can change that. And I’m not angry for what I did. I’m angry that I was forced to make such a choice, that my first child wasn’t created by my consent or with the man that I loved. I’m angry that I will have to live with what I did for the rest of my life, that no matter what I do, I can never seem to stop thinking about the baby I will never get to meet, and that to me just seems so…unfair.”

  To Madeline’s dismay, a sob escaped her and she folded into herself. James reached for her again and she tried to ward him off. But in the end, she couldn’t fight him when he pulled her into his arms.

  James sat down on the bed, holding her close as she broke down, releasing all of the pain and regret and anger that she hadn’t realized were still a part of her. She wept for the time between them that they could never have back, for the dignity that had been stolen from her, and for the child that was forever lost to her.

  James didn’t know how much time had passed, but he continued to hold Madeline close to his side as she slept. Her sobs had been gut-wrenching but he had simply held her as she released the flood of emotions until she had fallen into an exhaustive sleep.

  But as night moved into early morning, his tightly-wound emotions hadn’t been able to let his mind find any level of rest. The guilt and rage coursing through him was just too great.

  He had witnessed the greatest horrors during battle, had experienced even worse during his captivity, but nothing was as crushing as hearing how he had failed her. For everything he had gone after, for everything he had fought hard for, he hadn’t fought hard enough for her. As soon as he had been able, he should have gone to her—even if it meant going to the ends of the earth.

  Five years of pain and darkness now stretched between them, yet it was the things that had been left unsaid that threatened their future. She had exposed her pain. It was his turn to tell her why he hadn’t been ready to return to her after the war.

  When you’re going through hell, the best thing to do is to keep going.

  James remembered the words of the highly religious physician that had done more toward his healing after his release from the prison than any medicine had. By facing the horrors inflicted on him and talking through the trauma, he had been able to make it through the worst of it. He would never forget the moment he had returned to the prison camp to help identify the thousands of bodies left behind. It had been mentally excruciating, but he had reentered his hell and kept going.

  Facing his demons so that he could help put those who hadn’t been so lucky as to make it out alive had been like a therapy for him. And in many ways, it had helped him find his purpose and
sense of self again.

  Beside him, Madeline began to stir. When she came fully awake, she tensed against him. James didn’t speak, only continued to rub her lower back.

  “Jimmy…”

  “Yes, love?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He frowned. “You have nothing to apologize for, Maddie.”

  “Yes, I do.” She propped herself up and stared down at him. The skin beneath her eyes was swollen and a few loose strands had escaped her braid. “I shouldn’t have unloaded all that on you. I certainly shouldn’t have blamed you for any of it. I was speaking out of anger. I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened to me.”

  He sat up in the bed and cupped her chin. “I know that, love. I also know how devastating war can be and how, for some of us, war is never over. I just didn’t know the kind of battle you were fighting inside. And I should have.”

  She shook her head. “You couldn’t have known.”

  Yes, he could. He should have known from the weapons she carried, from the way she kept herself guarded at times, and the way she stiffened ever so slightly at his touch. He had thought it was because she needed time to adjust to him again, and maybe part of that was still true. But she had the signs of someone who had suffered extreme trauma and he should have known. He had witnessed and suffered through some of the same effects.

  “I spent three months in a prison camp before the war had finally ended, Maddie,” he confessed quietly. “That was the darkest hell I had ever experienced during my time in the war. I watched men starve to death, watched men kill for scraps, and I’ve had to watch men I had fought side by side with literally lose their mind.”

  Watching his friend Will descend to madness had been the most difficult. They had become fast friends and had watched over each other during the bloodiest of battles. Yet it had taken just one fight too many during a small riot in the prison camp for James to lose the man he had once trusted his life to.

  “Where were you taken?”

  “Camp Sumter in Georgia.”

  She sucked in her breath. “I read stories about that place. I heard many of the men taken there hadn’t made it out alive.”