Olivia watched as Beth walked up the lane to the Coopers’ house. With her head lowered, it seemed every step was an effort. She stopped at the gate and looked up.
“Missing; presumed captured,” Beth said briefly as she leaned wearily against the gate post. “For two weeks I’ve lived with it, and still it seems like an ugly dream.”
Olivia stood up. Clenching her hands, she fought with her own emotions and glanced quickly toward the Golden Awl before she left the veranda to walk out to meet Beth. “I’m sorry this has happened, Beth. But you mustn’t give up hope,” she insisted. “To be captured is at least a promise of life.”
“Mike said there’s a chance he’ll be exchanged.”
“Beth, I’ve read just recently that the cartel governing the exchange of prisoners has been renewed.”
“Why would they have to do that?”
Olivia shrugged. “I suppose it’s better that way. This cartel is based upon the agreement made between the United States and Great Britain in 1812. Prisoners are to be held no more than ten days, and exchange is made soldier for soldier, officer for officer.” She looked at Beth. “If he’s alive, you’ll probably hear from him very soon.”
“It’s been so long. There are only two days left in August, and I haven’t heard anything from him since the end of May.”
Olivia nodded slowly. Over Beth’s shoulder she saw Mike and Alex coming up the path from the boat. She fingered the brooch at the neckline of her frock as she watched Alex.
“Are you selling the boat?” Beth asked, turning to look toward the river.
“If we can find a buyer. There aren’t many who have money to spare, especially after the taxes Congress levied last month.” She wrinkled her nose and looked down at Beth. “Seems everything is taxed and over-taxed, but I suppose that’s to be expected. Something must be done to pay for this war.”
“I can’t find any virtue in war,” Beth said darkly.
“None of us can, not in any war. I don’t know how the men can face fighting.” Olivia sighed. “We can only hope there will be such a brokenness and healing that the country will survive.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“We’re a sick nation, selfish and uncaring,” Olivia said slowly. “At times I wonder if we’ll fight until we are nearly ruined. Certainly we deserve little help from God.”
“Do you think God cares much about what happens here?” Beth asked bitterly. “I don’t think He does. They talk about Him being a God of love. I have a very hard time believing that.”
Gravel crunched behind her. Beth turned and saw Alex and Mike approaching. She watched the expression in Alex’s eyes as he looked at his wife. When the two of them turned up the path to the house, Olivia tucked her hand through Alex’s arm and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. A knot twisted in Beth’s stomach.
“Look at them,” she said to Mike. “They act as if it’s been a week since they’ve seen each other.”
“Seems to me they must have almost a perfect marriage,” Mike said. “Been married four years, and they’re still like sweethearts. Guess it isn’t common to have that kind of marriage, but it makes a body wish it were.”
Beth nodded. “A fairy tale marriage—they live happily ever after. Sometimes I think it isn’t fair; people like that never have troubles.”
Mike’s glance was level, questioning. Abruptly he asked, “When are you going to sit down with me and tell me how it was to be raised in the South in a rich plantation family?”
She caught her breath. “I suppose when you can think of something besides kissing.” Mike chewed his lip thoughtfully before he followed Beth into the house.
****
As he prepared to leave three days later, Mike noticed the first touch of autumn in the air. The crispness seemed proper against the background of changing leaves and glowing asters in Sadie’s garden. He carefully closed the kitchen door behind himself just as Beth came out of the barn leading her horse.
“Thought I might as well give you a ride into town; that way you won’t need to worry about getting the mare home.”
“That’s mighty nice of you, Beth,” he said soberly, examining her face in the pale morning light. “But this means you’ll be getting to work at a very early hour.”
“I don’t mind. This is my favorite time of year, and I’ll just enjoy it.”
“Let’s get going.”
She reached for the horse. Mike took the reins from her, mounted the mare, and held out his arms. “Come on. One last time.”
After settling her skirts, she asked, “What do you mean one last time?”
“Well, I might not come back.”
She turned until she could see his face. “Mike, that’s nothing to joke about.”
“I’m not. I’m just facing the facts.”
“I’ve scarcely adjusted to the idea of Roald being gone, no doubt forever, and now you’re talking this way.”
“Do you care?”
“Of course I care, and you know it.”
“Beth, I think a lot of you. I know I’d be second best, but with Roald gone I want to see you taken care of. What if I ask you to marry me?” Hastily he added, “If and when I come back.”
“What if?” Her lips trembled.
“I’m asking right now. I want you to marry me when I come back—next month, or maybe the month after that. If I come back. How about it?”
“Mike, being married is for such a long time.”
“Or such a short time.”
She shuddered, turned, and rested her shoulders against him. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Beth, I guess I’ve loved you forever; at least it feels that way.” He tipped her chin so he could see her eyes, and then he bent to kiss her.
“Mike, I’m nearly afraid to say yes. If I say yes, you won’t come back. If we just leave it this way, then—”
“You will?” he finished her sentence. She nodded and pressed her face against his shoulder.
She waited at the station until the train gave one last, lonesome whistle. With a shiver she hurried back to the mare. Giving another glance toward the disappearing train, she sighed and murmured, “Forever is a long, long time.”