Read Online Everlasting Light - A Civil War Romance Novella by Andrea Boeshaar - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andrea Boeshaar
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up these windows, the cold winter wind won’t be able to howl through the rest of the house.” He looked skyward. “I think we’re in for some weather. Rain, maybe snow.”
Alaina pulled her woolen cape around her more tightly. “You could always stay with us, Michael.”
He fixed his gaze on her and grinned. “Jonathan said the same thing just this morning. He said I could have Kirk’s room. But, I … well, I don’t think that’s a wise idea, considering how I feel about you, Lain.”
She looked away, flattered, and yet her heart crimped painfully. While evidence seemed to indicate that Braeden was dead, she didn’t want to accept it. But perhaps it was time to force herself to do so. Maybe Mama McKenna was right—maybe she needed to “develop some backbone” and get on with her life.
Glancing back at Michael, she noted his ardent expression and the light of sincerity in his chocolate-brown eyes. He loved her. It was obvious. Maybe she should just marry him and make up her mind to be happy again.
“Why, Miz Laina, I didn’t know you was here.” Zeke came to stand in the front doorway.
”I didn’t realize you were still either, Zeke.” She mustered a smile. “Mama McKenna made some vegetable soup and asked me to run it over.”
“Warm soup … that sounds good.” He glanced at Michael and grinned. “Lemme help you with the container.”
Michael handed it over
Zeke motioned Alaina inside. “Get yourself outa the wind. You’re liable to catch a chill.”
She stepped into the house. Michael entered after her. There were stairs to the immediate right that led up to the second floor. To the left, the parlor and dining room were boarded off to keep the December wind at bay. She walked down the corridor, where pieces of salvaged furniture and Michael’s damaged paintings lined the wall. Her heart sank at the sight of ruined artwork. Moving on, she strode into the kitchen area. Beyond it stood the charred remains of the cookhouse.
“One of the bedrooms upstairs is now safe enough for me to sleep in,” Michael said, coming up behind her, “so I don’t have to sleep in the kitchen anymore.”
“Such devastation.” Alaina whirled around, facing him. “Those Yankees had no cause to do such evil to our homes and our land.”
“It’s war, Lain. What do you think happens in a war? Death and destruction.”
“Hmph! Maybe women ought to run the next war. Things would be a far sight better.”
Michael’s chuckle echoed through the empty room. “Now that would be a
phenomenon—women running a war. Let’s see … they’d stab the enemy with their vicious tongues and confuse them so greatly with gossip and rumors that the opposing army wouldn’t know in which direction they were moving.”
“Oh, hush.” She glared at him. He of all people shouldn’t be poking fun at her. “For your information, I do not gossip or backbite. Not all women do, you know.”
“Then I stand corrected. Hmm, let’s see.” He tapped his jaw in thought. “Females could always render the enemy senseless with their parasols or strangle them with their lace shawls.”
Alaina squared her shoulders. “Stop mocking me.”
In the far corner of the room, Zeke chuckled softly as he spooned the soup into bowls. “You best be careful, Mistah Michael. My mama used to say ain’t no fury on God’s green earth like a woman’s.”
The corners of Michael’s eyes softened, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “I’m only teasing, Lain. Don’t be angry with me.” At last he wiped the smile off his face. “It’s just that you’re so pretty when you’re riled. Your cheeks get all rosy.” He touched the side of her face with the backs of his knuckles.
She slapped his hand away.
“I done warned you.” Zeke snorted a laugh as he brought over the bowls of soup to the table.
Alaina spotted the three bowls. “None for me, Zeke. I guess I should have been clear. I’m just not—”
Horses’ hooves pounded
Alaina pulled her woolen cape around her more tightly. “You could always stay with us, Michael.”
He fixed his gaze on her and grinned. “Jonathan said the same thing just this morning. He said I could have Kirk’s room. But, I … well, I don’t think that’s a wise idea, considering how I feel about you, Lain.”
She looked away, flattered, and yet her heart crimped painfully. While evidence seemed to indicate that Braeden was dead, she didn’t want to accept it. But perhaps it was time to force herself to do so. Maybe Mama McKenna was right—maybe she needed to “develop some backbone” and get on with her life.
Glancing back at Michael, she noted his ardent expression and the light of sincerity in his chocolate-brown eyes. He loved her. It was obvious. Maybe she should just marry him and make up her mind to be happy again.
“Why, Miz Laina, I didn’t know you was here.” Zeke came to stand in the front doorway.
”I didn’t realize you were still either, Zeke.” She mustered a smile. “Mama McKenna made some vegetable soup and asked me to run it over.”
“Warm soup … that sounds good.” He glanced at Michael and grinned. “Lemme help you with the container.”
Michael handed it over
Zeke motioned Alaina inside. “Get yourself outa the wind. You’re liable to catch a chill.”
She stepped into the house. Michael entered after her. There were stairs to the immediate right that led up to the second floor. To the left, the parlor and dining room were boarded off to keep the December wind at bay. She walked down the corridor, where pieces of salvaged furniture and Michael’s damaged paintings lined the wall. Her heart sank at the sight of ruined artwork. Moving on, she strode into the kitchen area. Beyond it stood the charred remains of the cookhouse.
“One of the bedrooms upstairs is now safe enough for me to sleep in,” Michael said, coming up behind her, “so I don’t have to sleep in the kitchen anymore.”
“Such devastation.” Alaina whirled around, facing him. “Those Yankees had no cause to do such evil to our homes and our land.”
“It’s war, Lain. What do you think happens in a war? Death and destruction.”
“Hmph! Maybe women ought to run the next war. Things would be a far sight better.”
Michael’s chuckle echoed through the empty room. “Now that would be a
phenomenon—women running a war. Let’s see … they’d stab the enemy with their vicious tongues and confuse them so greatly with gossip and rumors that the opposing army wouldn’t know in which direction they were moving.”
“Oh, hush.” She glared at him. He of all people shouldn’t be poking fun at her. “For your information, I do not gossip or backbite. Not all women do, you know.”
“Then I stand corrected. Hmm, let’s see.” He tapped his jaw in thought. “Females could always render the enemy senseless with their parasols or strangle them with their lace shawls.”
Alaina squared her shoulders. “Stop mocking me.”
In the far corner of the room, Zeke chuckled softly as he spooned the soup into bowls. “You best be careful, Mistah Michael. My mama used to say ain’t no fury on God’s green earth like a woman’s.”
The corners of Michael’s eyes softened, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “I’m only teasing, Lain. Don’t be angry with me.” At last he wiped the smile off his face. “It’s just that you’re so pretty when you’re riled. Your cheeks get all rosy.” He touched the side of her face with the backs of his knuckles.
She slapped his hand away.
“I done warned you.” Zeke snorted a laugh as he brought over the bowls of soup to the table.
Alaina spotted the three bowls. “None for me, Zeke. I guess I should have been clear. I’m just not—”
Horses’ hooves pounded
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