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Author's Chapter Notes:
getting there, just bear with me
That night, at dinner, Elizabeth was silent. She knew that she was being unfriendly towards the stranger when he had done nothing to instigate her anger or distrust, but her father's rebuke had hurt her all the same. While Matthew chatted animatedly with William, who did his best to answer the boy's rapid-fire questions about the war, Elizabeth gathered the dirty dishes and carried them into the kitchen. After dropping them them into the sink, Elizabeth dried her hands on her apron, and then slipped out the back door.

Walking slowly through the warm summer night, Elizabeth sat on the rock behind their tavern, and gazed out over the James river. In the quiet of the darkness, she took a deep breath and tried to imagine what her life would have been like had the south not seceded, had the North not attacked. When the first shots were fired at Fort Sumpter two years before, Elizabeth was not even seventeen yet. Here she was,now nineteen, and little had changed. She closed her eyes, fighting the tears that hid just below the surface.

When a rough hand softly grasped her shoulder, Elizabeth turned to see her father standing beside her.

"I know this isn't what you wanted, Elizabeth. It isn't what I wanted for you either." He said slowly.

"But Papa, I'm fine really." Elizabeth tried to paste a smile on her face, but tonight, it just wouldn't come.

"No, you're not." Her father said sadly. "If your mother were still here, if the war hadnt started...but it did. We all make sacrfices, but you, you carry so much on those shoulders of yours." He sat beside her, and slid an arm around her. "She'd be so proud of you right now."

"Oh Daddy," Elizabeth said, leaning her head on her father's shoulder as the tears she'd fought so hard slowly slid down her cheeks.

"Look at you" Hank Summers said, sitting back from his daughter. With a hand on each of her arms, he turned her so that she faced him squarely. "You've been strong for all of us. I know I dont say it, but I see it." He lifted a calloused hand and brushed away the tear on her cheek. "This war is gonna end, the boys will all come home, and we'll pick right up where we left off, just you wait and see." He smiled, and hugged his daughter tightly.

"I hope so" she whispered fervently, and then brushed an arm across her tearstained cheek. As she began to stand, her father waved her off.

"I've got the dishes tonight, you take the night off." He nodded, and then stood, slowly walking back in side the house, and leaving her to her silence. After a moment, she stood, brushing off her skirts. Without turning away from the river, she spoke.

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked, before slowly turning to face the blonde man who stepped from the shadows.

"Not long. I just stepped out for a bit of air. You brother sure can talk." He mused, walking up to stand beside her. "He's too young to hear the answers to the questions he was askin though."

"I think so too, but Pa says that boys his age are off fightin, and that I gotta stop protectin' him." Elizabeth said, now looking over at William. In the faint light of the moon, the dramatic profile of his face was revealed. He looked tired though, beaten. The casual arrogance that so often graced his features was gone, and in its place, was the face of a man who had seen too much.

"Never. He needs your protection." William sighed, his shoulders drooping. "He's too innocent, too young to know what goes on out there. In the fight, you kill men that, had there been no war, could have been your friends. You march until your feet blister in the heat, and then huddle together around a dying fire to shield away the cold. If the fighting doesnt kill you, the infection might, the disease might. Everyone looks like a hero holdng a rifle and advancing into battle, but it is when they fall that you see the fear, the youth being stripped away from them as they bleed to death on a muddy battlefield." Elizabeth gazed at William in horror, but he continued. "There is nothing heroic about a soldier when he lies on the ground, crying, knowing that he'll never see home again. It is those sights that age a man. Matthew's too young for that."

"Is that what haunts you?" Elizabeth asked softly, gazing into William's troubled eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, and merely gazed back at the beautiful young woman standing before him.

"The demons I carry are far worse than that" he said, turning away from her, his voice sounding faraway. "You would be best to keep that in mind."

Elizabeth stepped back, as his demeaner suddenly turned cool. Confused at the statement that sounded more like a warning than anything else, Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked back towards the tavern.

"You comin in?" She asked, pausing at the door.

"No, I'll stay out here awhile." William responded, his back to her. Shrugging, Elizabeth entered the house, leaving William alone in the darkness.

After the door was closed behind her, William approached the water. Wincing at the residual pain of his injury, he bent down and picked up a small stone. After turning it over in his hands a few times, he tossed it into the water, watching as the ripples skimmed across the surface of the river, disrupting its calm surface. As he peered out over the water, his sharp eyesight picked up movement coming downstream. His back straightening, he stood completely still, watching the shapes as they materialized in the dark. When he recognized three boats approaching the store, he stepped back from the water, glancing around hurriedly. The tavern had gone dark though, and it appeared that everyone had gone to bed.

Approaching the shore once again, William lifted his hand in greeting. From the shadows, he saw a figure in the lead boat do the same.

As the moon slipped behind a cloud, the boats made landfall behind the tavern, its occupants all soundly asleep.





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