Hart (4 page)

Friday, I left. I went to town and drank the saloon dry, or I would have if they hadn't kicked me out first.

Didn't stop me. Just bought two bottles, took them with me, and found a spot under one of the lanterns in town. No real reason to plop there. Happens to be where I collapsed. And I drank.

And I forgot.

Still don't remember every detail. I wish I did. Oh, how I wish I did. I remember ever detail of Mother's funeral. I wish I didn't remember that. I remember how more people showed up than I anticipated. How Lucien called me out in front of everybody. How we got into a shoving match right beside Mother's grave.

How Lucien punched me in the jaw.

Father had to break us up.

How I accidently shoved Father, and he fell with his arm dangling in Mother's grave.

How the townsfolk looked at me.

How Colleen looked at me.

Of course, she had reason—more reason than most—to look at me as she did. Because, earlier that morning, I’d woken up in her bed.

Her beautiful bare body was snuggled next to mine. Her hair, all wild and wonderful, fell around her shoulders as she slept peacefully.

I'm a bastard. I woke her up. And I took her then. She didn't try to stop me. I buried all of my anger, my fears, my doubts—my love—into her.

The most difficult thing I've ever done is walk out of her bedroom. I wanted to stay there with her forever. Not only because of her beautiful body, but because there’s no telling how she'd found me under that lantern, what state I was in. I was drunk, full of grief and pain out of my mind, and she took me to her bed. Took care of me.

Mrs. Buck saw me as I left Colleen's room. The glare Mrs. Buck gave me could’ve scared the Devil. I just nodded and went on my way.

Went home.

Went to Mother's funeral.

Lost a brother.

I don't know what will happen between Colleen and me now. Or even if she’ll speak to me again after what transpired at the funeral.

Or if she regrets our night together.

My only regret is that I was too cowardly to ask her to run away with me.

Lucien hasn't come home yet. Father is rocking on the porch, staring off into the forest at God knows what.

I feel empty inside.

I need Colleen. I want to be with her. I'm terrified to see her after what she saw at Mother's funeral.

I had thought when Mother finally died everything would be better.

I was so very wrong.

Wednesday, July 3, 1861

I
HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN A VERY
long time. Nothing much to say. Lucien and I speak to each other, but nothing more than basic pleasantries. He hasn't punched me again, though. Thank God.

For me, mainly I've been a drunken mess. I don't like feeling the overwhelming sadness or guilt, and I do. Lord help me, I feel guilty for not getting a doctor to Mother in time. I feel guilty that I hurt my brother so badly—and my father.

I don't miss my mother. Not at all. But I hate what her death has done to my family. We’re falling apart, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

There’s nothing I can do about Colleen except leave her alone.

One drunken night in June, not that that narrows it down, I went to ask Colleen for her hand in marriage. I wanted to get away. To move somewhere that I wasn't known. Somewhere to start over.

I was in no shape to bring Colleen with me. I know that now, but at the time I couldn't get her out of my mind. I couldn't forget the feeling of being in her bed with her. With her. Touching her body.

I've had women before, but never so lovingly, so understanding, so… I don't know the right words. None of those other women had been like Colleen that night.

When I went to ask her to marry me, Lucien was there. Through the window of the store, I saw them sitting. He held her hand. She blushed. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand there and watch, and I could no longer ask her to marry me.

I'd taken our mother from Lucien, or I had in his mind. I couldn't take Colleen too. He can never know about the night I had with her. He can never know my intentions of asking her to marry me. It would break his heart and, more importantly, ruin Colleen’s reputation. I love them both too much for that.

Tennessee joined the CSA yesterday. Maybe it’s time to leave. Not with a wife like I expected, but alone like I deserve.

Maybe I'll sign up tomorrow before the Fourth Celebration. Maybe I'll tell Colleen goodbye and leave by next Monday.

This may be my last entry. I need to do what’s right for everyone.

Friday, July 5, 1861

M
Y JOURNAL HIATUS LASTED ALL OF
two days. To be fair, I haven't been home much to write.

Yesterday morning, Father stopped me bright and early. He was cryptic. Told me my choices—everyone's choices—had consequences.

I thought he spoke about Mother and how I chose to spend time with Colleen instead of getting her a doctor sooner.

Then he went off on the war and how Lucien and I were fighting age.

He begged me not to sign up. Said he couldn't stand losing me or my brother. His eyes were wet with tears, something I’d never witnessed before. Ever. Not even when Mother died.

I made him no promises. Simply patted him on the shoulder as I walked away.

I won't tell him, but as much as I wanted to run away, I’ve changed my mind. Truthfully, I had no idea my father wanted me to stay. I figured he'd be as happy to have us gone.

Maybe not my brother. But me. And I can be cynical and say it’s simply because he needs help on the farm. But that isn't what his eyes told me. They had tears in them. Pain too.

I would say he pleaded with me, except my father doesn't plead with me or anybody.

He wouldn't do that.

I won't tell him I've changed my mind. I won't tell him anything. Not now. It’s nice to be wanted though.

For the record, this is the first time I've ever felt this way about my family or thought that my family cared about me in the least. It’s a nice feeling. One I'd like to hold onto forever.

I wonder how long forever will last.

Tuesday, August 27, 1861

I
SAW
C
OLLEEN TODAY.

It was simply in passing. I needed a new book from the store, something to calm my mind and distract me from everything going on.

Men my age are signing up. Some Union. Some Rebels. I haven't. Lucien hasn't. I assume Father had the same talk with him.

Anyway, I saw Colleen in the mercantile. She appeared surprised to see me. Surprised and very pale. She hesitated a few moments before coming up to me, removing the book from my hand, grabbing my wrist, and whispering in my ear. It was the closest we'd been since that night we made love in her bed. I miss her so much.

Colleen grabbed me and whispered that we needed to talk. She had something very important to tell me. It seemed urgent, so I allowed her to lead me out. We passed Mrs. Buck who stopped us immediately.

She ripped Colleen's hand from my arm, and when Colleen protested, Mrs. Buck said a sinner like Colleen had no authority to speak. She then ordered Colleen upstairs and to stay away from me.

I tried to reason with Mrs. Buck. I hadn't seen Colleen in a few months so there should’ve been no reason for me to offend her.

But offend I did.

No matter what I said, it did nothing.

Mrs. Buck glanced at me, told me I'd done enough damage, and stormed up the stairs, leaving me flabbergasted.

If I did something to offend them, I truly was sorry. If Mrs. Buck knows about my night with Colleen… well I have no words for that. If Mrs. Buck believes I wish to steal Colleen way from Lucien, she’s correct. However, I’ll never do it. I don’t wish to hurt my brother in such a way.

However…

If Colleen chooses me over him, I will gladly settle down and grow old with her. I will marry her and have lots of babies. Glory, I sound like a woman. I do want a family with her, and I want a life with her. If she chooses me.

I want her to choose me.

She’ll never choose me.

I never found out what Colleen wanted to speak to me about. Perhaps I’ll find out tomorrow. I’ll try to find her sometime when Mrs. Buck isn't close. Easier said than done.

Until tomorrow.

Sunday
,
September 1, 1861

S
OME THINGS IN LIFE HAVE NO
words. I suppose I should begin at the beginning. I'm not even sure what the beginning is. Was it when I found this journal? Was it when I first laid eyes on her?

I can't bring myself to write her name. I don't deserve to write it, much less say it. I haven't written in a few days, and I had plans to never write in here again. But I had to. This is, in a way, my confession. It’s my way of telling the truth so that someday it will be known.

Some day.

Her aunt swore me to secrecy. My father doesn't know. Can never know. Neither can Lucien. Mrs. Buck said I owed her—Colleen, it hurts so much to write that—that much.

I suppose I do. She shouldn't be…

If anyone ever reads this, these words are my confession. I might not be able to tell anyone the truth, but at least I can write about it. Maybe it will clear my conscience in some way and keep me from telling my brother. Mrs. Buck is right. No one can ever know. And my brother, he can grieve in his own way. He can mourn, thinking, knowing, that Colleen loved him.

Truth be told, I don't know who she loved, but I know who is the reason she's…

Mrs. Buck will never let me live it down. Privately of course. She’ll never want a scandal to dampen the memory of her niece. I don't either.

But I need to get this out. Somehow. Before it eats me alive. Selfish? Yes. I've never been accused of anything else. I'll keep their secret.

Keep it to my grave.

Keep it until someone reads this.

I hope I’m long gone before that ever happens.

About three days ago, my world ended. Shattered. I don't believe I’ll ever recover.

It was before sunrise. Father and Lucien had gone to Nashville on business, so I was here alone.

I heard a woman screaming. When I looked out, Mrs. Buck was running down the road, yelling my name. At first, I had no idea if it was from anger, frustration, fear, or rage. Found out a few moments later, it was all of them.

Colleen was in her room in the mercantile.

Ill.

And asking for me.

I rode into town with Mrs. Buck sitting behind me; she ordered me to go the long way so no one in town would see.

Once I reached Colleen, I understood why.

I have never seen a person so pale. The doctor sat at her bedside, and the blankets covering her were soaked in blood.

Her uncle took a swing at me when I entered, but Colleen's frail voice caused him to back away.

Her tiny hand reached for me, and I sat down in a chair by her side.

She smiled when I asked her if she was all right. It was the doctor who informed me of her condition.

Colleen was with child.

My child.

And having serious bleeding complications.

He wasn't sure if she had lost the child or not, but he knew that we'd lose Colleen if the bleeding didn't stop.

Mrs. Buck wept in the doorway.

I'm not good with words. I cannot express the grief, the agony, the fear I felt in those moments. I didn't want to lose Colleen.

I loved her.

Mrs. Buck told me that we were to keep Colleen's condition to ourselves. The two of us would marry, disappear, and return to town with the child and lie about the birth date. She would not have this put a stain on her family.

The doctor said Colleen's reputation was the least of our concerns. Unless they could stop the bleeding, both mother and child would be lost. If the child wasn't lost already.

Mrs. Buck and the doctor bickered for a while. I focused only on Colleen. She looked like an angel in her bed, the same bed we’d made love in about four months before.

This was all my fault.

Colleen rubbed her thumbs gently over my knuckles and smiled weakly. She told me everything would be all right.

The doctor is also a preacher. He married us not an hour later. Mrs. Buck, fully convinced Colleen would regain her health, gave me no options. I would marry her niece and make an honest woman out of her before the child's birth. I had no objection. I had wanted to marry Colleen since I'd laid eyes on her, just not under these circumstances. My brother would be furious, but he'd get over it.

Someday.

They made me leave the room and stay by Mr. Buck, who I'm sure would have shot me if they didn't need me to marry Colleen. He still might. I wouldn't stop him.

When they let me back inside Colleen's room, her garments had been changed into a beautiful while lace gown that buttoned all the way up her neck. Her hair, accented with beautiful yellow flowers, fell around her shoulders. She held a bouquet of the same flowers in her hands.

I'll never forget that sight, the love I felt for her. Knowing I'm the one that caused her condition and her illness made me angry at myself.

We held hands and promised till death do us part.

Death parted us five hours later with an ear-piercing scream and a gush of blood.

In one day, I'd become a husband, a father, and a widow.

Widow in spirit only. The marriage had never been announced publically, and since Colleen was gone, we all felt the need to protect her reputation.

Spider bite was the official cause of death.

Colleen Channing (Blackwell) died holding my hand, looking into my eyes, while the doctor tried to stop the bleeding and save her.

I told her everything would be all right.

That I'd take care of her.

I told her to hold on to me and never let go.

I couldn't save her.

Nothing can ever save me.

Lucien is taking it hard. He questions how a spider bite could have done her in so quickly.

He can never know.

No one can know that, for the briefest of time, I was married to the love of my life, and we were to have a family together.