The Widow's War

Swaying, bone-jarring jolts, the smell of mules—I opened my eyes to find myself lying on a straw pallet in a wagon that was bumping along much too fast for comfort. Someone had strung a piece of canvas over my head, and rain was rattling against it like corn on a drumhead. I was wrapped in a fancy white quilt like the sort people give to a bride on her wedding day. There was a goose down pillow under my head and a warm brick at my feet, but I had never felt so cold. My fingers were almost numb, and I was so weak and sick to my stomach that I wasn’t sure I could lift my head. Where was I and what was wrong with me? The last thing I remembered was pulling Teddy out of the river.

“You’re awake,” a familiar voice said. I heard the scratch of a match. Lantern light flared suddenly, and I saw vinelike lines moving above me like snakes. They reminded me of the time Mae Seja gave me the black drink, but I couldn’t possibly be in Brazil.

With great effort, I managed to turn my head. William was sitting beside me, looking at me with concern. There was an ugly purple bruise around his neck, his shirt was torn, his hair was matted with dust, and he needed a shave. But it was his voice that startled me most. It was wheezing and hoarse, as if he still had the hanging rope around his neck. I wondered if he’d ever talk normally again. He must have seen this question in my eyes for he said: “Don’t worry. I’ll sound like myself again in a week or two. How about you? How do you feel?”

Alarmed, I tried to sit up, only to fall back and collapse in helpless tears. I felt dizzy and breathless and confused. I wanted to be home in Lawrence in my own bed.

Pulling out his pocket handkerchief, William gently applied it to my eyes. “Hush, sweetheart. Hush. You’re very weak, but you’ll be fine. We found you in time. Hush. Rest and let me take care of you.”

“All of them are fine. They were outnumbered at two to one, but they had surprise on their side. I hear Ni and Ebenezer planned the attack. Generals in a regular army couldn’t have done better. That stampede was a stroke of genius. Most of Clark’s men broke and ran like rabbits. The ones we took prisoner are keeping Jed Clark and his wife company in the slave pen. You should have heard Jed’s wife shriek when her own slaves put chains on her. As for Henry Clark, he’s dead. Jane shot him.”

I lay there trying to take all this in. The news seemed too good to be true. As a matter of fact, it was. Five of our men had been wounded, two gravely, but at the time William didn’t think I was up to hearing about it, and he was probably right.

He stroked my cheek tenderly. “There. That’s better. There’s no need to cry, and I have a surprise for you.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a ring, took my left hand in his, and slipped it on my third finger. I looked down and saw a gold band set with blue sapphires. “My father gave this to my mother on the day they were married.”

“How did I come by it? I’ll tell you the details later, but for now let’s just say it was brought to Beau Rivage by the last man we’d have expected to bring it.” He leaned over and softly brushed his lips against mine. “Carrie, sweetheart, will you marry me?”

I had already said “yes” twice before, but no matter how often he asked me that question, my answer was always going to be the same. I nodded, and he smiled.

For a long time William sat beside me holding my hand. Gradually, I felt peace stealing over me. After a while the wagon came to a halt, the rain stopped, the lantern went out, and in that almost perfect silence between dark and birdsong, I slept.