Fight for Glory (My Wounded Soldier #1) by Diane Munier

crazy cause we weren’t set to
marry. We wanted to have our adventure first, and
maybe instead of. But Jimmy wouldn’t let up, and the climate was war everywhere
we went, and pretty soon we would be sons of disgrace if we didn’t sign up. So
we did.”
    I was making the
last stitch then. Her eyes were tearing steady, but they had been on me the
whole time. I liked her eyes on me. I had not told this story before, but with
her…I wanted to.
    I snipped the
thread, and wrapped the cut in the clean strip. I sewed it closed, and sat back
admiring my work, still holding her hand.
    “You are always
helping me,” she said. I kept looking at her, her hand in mine the strongest
thing.
    “Come here,” I
said, and she stood, our hands staying joined as she rounded the table.
    She stood beside
me then. “Ever long, Tom, for a woman to rub your shoulders after a day in the
field?” she said.
    I swallowed that
big feeling again. I had not longed for such before now.
    “When I see
you…when you walk in the house….”
    “Missus,” I said,
“the whiskey loosens the tongue. I must be a gentleman here and bid you care in
giving words to….”
    “Quiet, now Tom. Hasn’t your ma told you not to interrupt a
lady?” She was so cute I could barely contain my delight. And I ached for her
words. I wanted to hear everyone. I wanted to know what she would never say. And
I didn’t want to know. Lord what would I do with it? I was evil, right now, I was reprobate through and through to compromise her
this way.
    “I feel so safe
with you,” she said. “And I wanted to feel that with Richard. But I never did. It
was always me out front. With his father Charles. He…couldn’t stand to him. I
never told you, Tom. I was ashamed to say it, you being a hero in the war.”
    “I’m no hero,” I
scoffed.
    “Listen to me. You
are everything a hero is. But my husband…he didn’t answer the call. I did not
know he was ever called. I reckoned he was too old. He was older than me. By
fifteen years. Along I came and I was swooped up. He worked in the store, and
I’d been a humble girl. I could scarce believe he took an interest in me, but I
did work hard to get him to notice, oh my. I’d walk by there after school. It
was my first time away from home. I was a teacher. I was so proud. And he was
so fine, you know. But he couldn’t stand up to Charles. But I could. And I did.
And Richard chose me. And we came here for a new start because his father
disowned him. That was the price for marrying me. But he must have been in
contact with his father because they conspired to keep him out of the war. That’s
what that soldier said. That’s why he came for us that day. To
settle.”
    I knew this from
Johnny. But she needed to tell it, it seemed. So I listened.
    I don’t know when
her hands, the good and the wounded ended on my shoulders, but when she sat on
my lap it seemed right. I held her in my arms and she rested there, her head
slowly coming to my shoulder. Her hands in her lap now as I had my arms around
her, her small womanliness like glory to me, her hair like silk under my cheek,
my rough beard catching on the strands, my rough hands catching on her dress. Chaff falling onto her from my hair, and me smelling like a
barnyard animal. But she didn’t seem to care, she made me feel like a king.
    Long minutes
passed. “Tom…you’re beautiful, inside and out. I love your face…and that day I
saw you washing at the well…I ain’t ever going to get that out of my mind.”
    Oh glory I was
going to burst. It was all I could do not to push her down on me. My arms
tightened around her.
    “Your chest, your
arms, Tom…you’re the most beautiful man God ever did make. It’s not the devil. I
was wrong. It’s God. It could only be God.”
    “Hush, Addie,” I said, my voice shaky.
    “I pine for you,
Tom. I serve you at the table, and I nearly drop the mashed potatoes or the
green beans. If I brush your sleeve, I burn. And the good book