Coming Home

By Linda Kaye

Betrayed in the worst possible way by her husband and her very own sister, Emma Holden vows to survive this. When her husband is killed during the Civil War, Emma refuses to feel guilt over her sense of relief. She embraces her new freedom, traveling with just her young son until she realizes that she is only running from her past.

Anderson Barton left his family farm to enlist and do his duty for his country. But when the war took the lives of his three brothers, he stays in the army, unwilling to face his family and the guilt he feels at not being able to protect his younger brothers. When first his mother and then his father die, Anderson cannot ignore his remaining five young siblings, and he learns that coming home is not always so easy.

When Emma and Anderson’s worlds collide, can they learn to let go of the past and live for the present and future?

This book is a set of four novellas, each separate in their own right, yet part of a four-set series that work as a single novel

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Kaye
• Release date: Apr 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370727636

Linda Kaye

Allow me to introduce myself. I am Linda Kaye , a writer of historical romance novels and novellas.I want my characters to be realistic. We all have flaws, and characters in a novel should as well. I want characters that come alive on my pages and stand out in your memory, even if they are not the type of person you would want to have as a friend!Aside from writing I work full time and I am a mother of a son and a miniature dachshund. My heritage is a twist of midwest farm girl with deep south ties. I enjoy reading (obviously!), genealogy, counted cross stitch, and watching football and baseball.Some of my favorite authors and books are Harper Lee's;To Kill a Mockingbird, Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House Series, Johanna Lindsey, Kat Martin, and Eugenia Price.

Book preview

Chapter One

1863, Philadelphia

Emma Holden silently urged the carriage to move faster as she traveled towards her home. She couldn’t wait to tell her husband the wonderful news! Oh, what was wrong with this driver! She had explicitly told him to get her home in all haste, and it seemed that she would have made it faster by walking. Edward would be so happy when he heard the news. For two years, they had hoped for a child and finally she was going to have one!

Emma closed her eyes and tried to picture what their baby would look like. Would it be a handsome boy with his father’s blond hair and blue eyes or would it be a girl with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes like her own. And names! What would they name their child? Perhaps Edward Holden, Jr. or maybe Carolyn after her own deceased mother for a daughter. She was so excited and happy.

And Katherine! Katherine would be thrilled at becoming Aunt Katherine. She thought of her younger sister who had moved in with her and Edward following the death of their father. Katherine would immediately start making dresses and blankets and nappies for her future niece or nephew. Emma thought she would burst with joy!

Finally, the carriage pulled up to her home and Emma didn’t wait for the driver to open the door. She shoved it open and was in the process of descending alone when the shocked driver appeared beside her and offered his hand. She took it until she was safely on the ground and then rushed past him up the steps. Taking a deep soothing breath before she opened the front door, Emma calmly walked towards Edward’s study.

She paused again outside the door to regain her composure and heard the low murmur of voices inside. She should knock first, but the news was too great to wait. With a smile growing wider by the second across her face, Emma turned the handle and threw open the door. Oh Edward! I have the best news…

Her words stopped in mid-sentence as she stared in horror at her husband and her sister in the midst of a deep kiss. When Edward turned quickly towards her, Emma noticed his hand was resting on Katherine’s breast. Emma shut the door and ran up the stairs, tears streaming down her face and a pain searing her very heart like she had never experienced. She didn’t hear the loud slap coming from the study. She didn’t hear anything except the pounding in her own head.

Emma flung herself on her bed and closed her eyes. Maybe she was dreaming, and this was just a nightmare. She tried to convince herself of that. But it wasn’t a dream; she knew what she had just witnessed downstairs. How could her husband and her own sister do this to her? She thought she would be physically ill.

It was only five minutes before the door opened. Ah, Emmaline, Edward said. Emma hated being called Emmaline, and her husband knew that well. It wasn’t even her name, but Edward had once told her it sounded more sophisticated. Emmaline, sit up and look at me. When she refused to meet his command, he sat down on the bed.

I’m sorry you had to see that, but it will make things easier to explain. Katherine was just telling me that she was with child, and I was showing her how pleased I am.

Emma sat up at that and glared at him. You got my sister pregnant? How long has this been going on? She had never suspected anything such as this was going on right under her own nose, and truthfully, she had always thought that her sister didn’t even like Edward.

Edward took her hand and patted it as one would comfort a small child. I’ve offered her my protection from scandal, and I’ve already got a plan worked out

She needs to leave. I won’t have her in my home. Not anymore, Emma spat at him.

Edward laughed. No, that’s not going to happen. You see, as my wife, you must obey me, and you will obey me as I take care of my responsibilities, namely Katherine and the child.

Emma stared at him with an open mouth. How on earth did he expect her and apparently, his pregnant mistress to live in the same home? It was unprecedented, it was too much, and it was just disgusting.

Edward put his arms around her ignoring her as she tried to move away from him. Ah, the two lovely Davis girls. So rich, so beautiful, and now totally dependent upon me.

Emma wanted to find the courage to remind him of just who paid the bills in this marriage. While Edward was not a pauper, he no longer had the means to live the lifestyle he was raised in. For the first time since Edward had stepped into her life, she understood why her father had tried to discourage the match following Emma’s disastrous courtship from Richard Trent, a man who made Edward look like a saint. Sadly, Andrew and Carolyn Holden’s unexpected deaths had left her unprotected against Edward’s maneuvers, and she had finally relented and accepted his proposal. It was laughable now that one of her reasons she married him was his vow to protect Kate.

He started to walk away and then stopped. By the way, what was the good news you wanted to tell me? His face was alight in pleasure and power as if this was the moment he had waited for his entire life.

Emma glared at him. How had this all happened? Just a few minutes ago she had been happier than she had ever been in her life, and now she wanted to die. No! She would not say that. She had to think of her child now. She would get through this for the child if nothing else. Emma knew that she would never let Edward back in her bed and this would be her only chance at being a mother. Through gritted teeth she said, I am with child.

Edward smiled brightly. Wonderful news! And when is the little bundle of joy to arrive?

Emma looked down at her folded hands and whispered, July.

Same as your sister! Won’t that be a happy month around here? With that he turned and left his wife with the worst heartache she thought possible.

Six months later, Emma sat in her parlor re-reading the telegram that had arrived that morning as she waited for her solicitor to arrive. Dear Mrs. Holden, we regret to inform you that your husband, Sgt. Edward Holden, was killed in battle at Gettysburg. Funny, but she didn’t feel anything that most widows should feel. She mostly felt release. Release from a lifetime of humiliation, release from a man who she had once trusted and who turned out to betray her in the vilest of ways.

There was a noise at the door and Emma glanced up to see her solicitor and her husband’s solicitor being shown in by the Holden butler. She motioned for the two men to sit down across from her, and dismissed the servant.

Now, let’s get this started, she began. Mr. Wallick, as my message to you stated, my husband is dead. Pray tell me, I would like to get the matter of his estate settled as quickly as possible.

Mr. Wallick pulled out a neatly organized folder and opened it. As he thumbed through each paper, Emma tried not to glare at him. He was a shady sort that she had never trusted especially after her solicitor had caught Edward and his sleazy solicitor attempting to steal from her. She was aware that her parents had an old will when they died written before Katherine was even born. Everything was clearly left to her and even specifically mentioned not to be controlled by her husband but a solicitor of the courts choosing until she reached the age of nineteen. At that time, she would control her own inheritance.

But Edward didn’t think Mr. Kile would be so savvy and discover when his solicitor, Mr. Wallick, attempted to put the entire estate into Edward’s control. Jason Kile had begun to question the large and suddenly new household account bills Edward submitted to him each month for payment. Accounts, that after some investigation, led back to Edward Holden as payee. The courts had fortunately stepped in, and Emma was now to approve all bills submitted prior to payment.

And even though her parents’ estate had left everything to her, Emma had immediately ordered Mr. Kile to split the estate in two equal shares, half for her and half for her sister. Legally it was all in Emma’s name. She had been concerned that Katherine, being so young at the time, would be taken advantage of by a fortune hunter much as she was experiencing. Emma had left their parents’ home and the contents alone, and kept the home in good repair until both she and Katherine decided what to do with it.

Ah, here we have it, Mr. Wallick announced. Mr. Holden changed his will just prior to enlisting in the army. He left his entire estate to his wife and any children she may have and in case both preceded him in death, to his wife’s sister and any children she may have.

Emma snorted but quickly regained her composure. Well, obviously, that’s not the case, so what else does it say.

Mr. Wallick looked at her with utter contempt. Yes, well. That’s about it. You get everything. And given the complexity of his estate, it would be in your best interest for the holdings to remain under my supervision.

Emma raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Mr. Kile. Jason Kile cleared his throat and inquired, Was that a requirement of the will or just your wishes?

No, not at all. I was merely suggesting that his fortune and investments are so vast and complex that I would highly recommend I continue managing the holdings.

Fortune and investments? Jason Kile interrupted. I was under the impression that Holden’s legacy included more debt than anything else. The young but highly regarded businessman had trouble hiding his dislike and distrust from David Wallick.

Looking highly insulted, Edward’s cohort puffed up. On the contrary, with Emma’s finances covering the bulk of the household expenses, Mr. Holden was able to recover from his, um, financial issues, and had started to rebuild his fortunes.

Mr. Kile rolled his eyes. And yet, he never thought to contribute to his own household expenses and chose to lay all the burden on his wife, he mumbled. "We would like a full accounting of the estate no later than Friday. At which time I will be managing Mrs. Holden’s wealth."

Mr. Wallick appeared shocked and looked at Emma with his mouth hanging open. Emma merely nodded and smiled her agreement with Mr. Kile’s statement.

Edward’s solicitor was furious, but he knew when he had been defeated. He angrily gathered up his papers and stormed out of the room pausing at the door to look back at Emma with pure hatred.

Until Friday, Mr. Wallick, she said calmly almost daring him to say another word. With that he left.

Me thinks somebody is not happy with this meeting, Jason Kile muttered.

Emma snorted again. Quite frankly I don’t care what his feelings are. I am ready to get on with my life and I need you to watch over my finances. I do not trust that man one iota. I have a feeling he may not be truthful in his disclaimers Friday.

Oh, I am sure he won’t be. And apparently, your husband did not fully trust him as well or he would not have kept his own records in such detail.

Maybe he was good for something then, she replied with an eye roll. Now, I have one more task to do while you are here. She rang for a servant who promptly appeared. Please tell Katherine I need to speak with her.

The servant briefly paused before leaving. Everybody in the home knew the two sisters had not spoken in months. At the same time, Mrs. Holden had also stopped speaking to her husband and the servants unless she had to. Emma did not trust the servants who she secretly termed Edward’s spies. She hadn’t been cruel, she just avoided everybody in the household. Emma had not dined with Katherine or Mr. Holden, nor had she allowed Katherine to enter a room she was already occupying.

It was a good twenty minutes before Katherine appeared. The blonde hair blue eyed young woman stood in the doorway as timid as a mouse looking nervously at Emma. Emma noticed Katherine and motioned for her to come in.

I wanted to tell you that Edward is dead. Killed in battle, Emma said flatly.

Katherine gasped and a hand flew to her mouth.

Emma rolled her eyes. Yes, I’m sure you are wondering what will happen to you since my husband is not around to protect you. Shall your husband be killed in the same battle? Would that help you?

Katherine started to shake. Edward had created an imaginary husband for Katherine named Calvin Morris, who supposedly married Katherine just before he left for the war. It was much better than saying Katherine was pregnant by her sister’s husband.

Either way, Emma continued, You will remove yourself from this house today. You may take up residence in Mother and Father’s home, and Mr. Kile, will make certain your bills are paid and that you and the child will be afforded everything you need to live comfortably.

Katherine looked down at her shoes. She knew Emma hated her. Edward had forbidden Katherine to approach Emma, and once Edward left for war Katherine had pleaded with Emma to speak to her. But she had refused. The only kindness Emma had shown to her was when Katherine gave birth, Emma sent a brief note that said "Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I hope you and the child are well".

I will start collecting my belongings, she whispered.

Have you decided if you want your husband to be dead? It would give you a clean break and would probably be best for your future. Otherwise you will need to explain why you have moved home rather than to your husband’s home. Emma tried to remain calm and cool, but this interaction with her sister had brought back all the pain and betrayal she had felt while at the same time the realization that this was her baby sister who she once loved more than anything.

He’s dead also, Katherine said meekly. It didn’t really matter anyway. He never existed, and she had already lost one of the most important people in her life, Emma.

Very well, Emma answered. I’m sorry for your loss. Edward predicted that July would be a happy month around here. Funny how true his prediction turned out to be.

Emmie, please, Katherine started with tears in her eyes.

Emma held up her hand and shook her head. I have made it very clear that there is nothing you can say or do to excuse what you did. It was only at the insistence of my husband that I have been forced to endure you these past few months, however I no longer am obligated to his disgusting demands. I have been more than generous with you financially and will continue to do so, however I want nothing to do with somebody of your ilk. And should your secret be made public, I should think you will find society turning against you as well.

After Katherine left, Emma turned to Mr. Kile, who had been watching the strained interaction of the sisters with sorrow in his heart as well. He knew that they had once been more than just sisters, but friends as well. And Edward Holden had destroyed their relationship with his own schemes and desires.

That was a bit harsh, Emma, he stated. I think there is more to this mess than meets the eye.

Ignoring his comments, she continued, I plan to be liquidating everything that Edward had and traveling for a while. I’ll only want the books stored. And I want to make sure that Katherine and her daughter have everything they not only need but want as well. She is a lady from a good family and needs to be treated as such. The solicitor nodded his understanding.

Six months later Emma and her son, Andrew, left the large home for the last time. She felt no regrets and no sorrow. Edward had destroyed any feelings she might have once felt towards this home. It was nothing more than bricks and windows and doors to her.

She had the driver take her past her parents’ home one last time before going to the train station. She took in every detail of the home that had been filled with such love and happiness. Her parents’ marriage was what she had wanted herself, but she had put her trust in the wrong man. She recalled the holidays, the celebrations, the games she and her sister had played together. She glanced up to her old bedroom window and recalled how her sister would sneak into her bed and the two would stay awake late into the night whispering silly stories to one another until they finally fell asleep.

She couldn’t help but smile at those memories even as a silent tear rolled down her cheek. Maybe one day she could only recall the good times and forget the events that had nearly destroyed her sanity.

Oh, Katherine, why did you hurt me so? she whispered and fought to blink back the flood of tears that formed in her eyes. She looked down at her son cradled in her arms. It’s just you and me now, Andrew. But we’ll be just fine.

Chapter Two

1869, Annapolis, Maryland

Captain? Anderson Barton’s eyes fluttered open slowly as he tried to figure out what had woke him. A soft constant knocking sounded followed by somebody repeatedly calling Captain? He raised his head from the pillow and felt the blood rush out of his head leaving a massive pounding within behind. His head dropped back onto the pillow. He blinked his eyes a few times trying to recognize his surroundings.

Captain? Please, sir? the voice called again.

Anderson started to sit up, but realized that a woman’s arm was draped across his chest. He carefully removed the appendage and sat up. He tried to answer, but had to clear his throat before any words could be formed. Just a minute, he finally got out. At least the knocking at the door stopped, now if the pounding in his head would stop he would be much better.

He glanced around the room and noticed it was still dark out except for the moon light shining into the bedroom. He found his pants thrown in the corner of the room and quickly donned them. He glanced back towards the bed and pulled the blanket over the woman who was still sleeping, her blond hair spread across the pillow hiding her face from his view. His eyes squinted in thought as he tried to recall her name. Nothing came to mind, so he crossed to the door.

Flinging the door open, Anderson found a young corporal standing on the other side blushing like a school boy and trying to peek inside the room even as he saluted Anderson. Anderson shifted his large six-foot three frame to block the boy’s view and raised a daring eyebrow. What is it? he demanded.

The young man was flustered for an instant and then suddenly remembered his message. Um, Urgent telegram came for you. Major Yardley told me to find you at all costs, sir.

Anderson snatched the telegram away from the corporal and ripped it open. He read the short message. Years of military training left him expressionless. Bring my horse around. I’ll be down in ten minutes, he said and shut the door before the corporal could respond.

Once he was safe from the eyes of the young man, Anderson closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door frame. Your father is dead. The children need you. Nothing to indicate what had happened or when his father had died. Anderson fought the tears that were trying to surface. He had to face this corporal and his Major yet tonight and it wouldn’t do to be red eyed. He took a deep breath and quickly finished dressing. He glanced again at the woman in bed, but still could not recall who she was or even where he was for that matter. He shook his head and left the room.

He found the corporal standing with both of their horses in front of the townhouse. Anderson glanced around at the street looking for anything that might tell him where in the hell he was, but nothing seemed familiar. He had been at a dinner party earlier and left there to play cards at another gathering later. Things started to get fuzzy after that. How did you find me? he asked.

The Major thought you were going to dinner at the Reeds, so I went there first and Mr. Reed told me you had left to go to Damian Higgins’. Took some time to find anybody who knew where you had gone from there, but then a maid recalled you left with the Widow Fowler. So, I thought I would try here.

Ah! Violet Fowler! Now he remembered. Violet was known as being good for a tumble with most men in his circle. However, Anderson had always avoided her, simply because she tended to get clingy afterwards according to his friends. He wanted nothing to do with the chit. Apparently, too much alcohol had let his normal reasoning escape him tonight. He was suddenly glad that she hadn’t woke while he was leaving.

They rode the rest of the way back in silence. Anderson thought of his siblings. They were alone now that his father was gone. His mother had died three years ago while he was in the Arizona territory and by the time he had learned the news months had passed. There were four little girls left alone in the world. No! There was also a little boy, too, Anderson corrected himself. The little boy was the youngest. There had once been three other boys as well, but they were dead now. Anderson was twenty when he left home to join the war. His brothers had trickled away following in his footsteps, but not a one of them had made it home alive.

The guilt had kept Anderson from going back home to see his parents. He knew his brothers had looked up to him and had only enlisted because he had. Anderson couldn’t bear to face his family and see the blame that he had imagined would be on their faces. But the war had ended four years ago. It was past time to go home.

Three weeks later Anderson pulled up his horse on a small rise and surveyed his childhood home. He took in the view as a flood of memories came rushing back to him. Eight years? Had he truly been gone for eight years? Looking down on the large farm house, the barns and scattered outbuildings, the creek, Anderson couldn’t help but feel as if time had stood still. Except it hadn’t. A glance over towards the left to the small hill on the opposite side of a pond, he noticed the mound of dirt and a newer cross at the head of the pile. It was surrounded by several other more weathered crosses.

Those three crosses had kept him from returning to the farm that he had once loved, to the parents who had raised him. Instead he had let his guilt eat away at him. Anderson spent the years since the war ended running from that guilt. Hiding behind a bottle, the next card game, and just about any soft female who was more than willing to take his mind off his problems. It had become an exhausting lifestyle, and even before he received the telegram Anderson had been having serious doubts about the direction he was heading.

Looking down on the farm again, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before clicking to his mount to move on.

It’s him! He’s here! a feminine voice called from just inside the house as Anderson tied his horse to the hitching post. An excited chorus of screams and laughter echoed from all corners of the house and an eager rush of footsteps filled the air until the front door was thrown open. He glanced up to see a line of young ladies fly outside and then shockingly come to a complete stop at the sight of him.

He searched his mind for hints of who was who. These were not the little girls he had left behind. Lizzie, who must be seventeen or eighteen, had only been ten when he left and even though her blonde pig tails were long gone, Anderson could still see the sweet innocent little amber-eyed girl in the face of the young woman who stood before him. Amelia now sixteen or was it seventeen, dark hair like his own but with green eyes. Lydia would be thirteen, and the little one, what was her name? Hannah! The little one was named Hannah and she was ten. A slight movement hiding behind the older blond girl’s skirts reminded him of the little brother he had never met.

Hello, children, he said nervously. Would they even remember him? Had he remembered them correctly? Maybe he would take it slow and listen for clues before calling one the wrong name.

Their reaction took him by surprise when they all rushed him at once, hugging and crying as if their very lives depended on him. He was sobered by the fact that they truly did now depend on him. Orphans. They all were now, except he was a grown man, and here stood five children who had nobody to care for them in the world save himself. He knelt and wrapped his strong arms around the whole group, trying to ensure them that he would take care of them now.

One by one, he removed their grasping arms and kissed each one’s cheek. He slowly made his way toward the house, half dragging his siblings, and trying not to tromp on anybody’s foot as they seemed to come right back at him as he unwound their limbs from his waist and legs.

Let’s go inside and talk, he got out over all their cries and questions.

Once inside he sat in a chair and started to relax. He could feel it in his very bones that he was finally home. Not much had changed. The furnishings were a little worn but even the mantel clock was the same one that had sat there since he was a small child.

Would you like some lemonade? the older blonde one asked. Anderson tried to find a hint of his sister Lizzie in this young lady’s face, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself by calling her the wrong name. And why was she wearing a man’s shirt and pants?

Oh! I’ll get it! and without waiting for Anderson’s answer, the littlest one ran out of the room.

The dark haired one dropped in the chair directly in front of him and studied him until Anderson grew uncomfortable. This one was a going to be a beauty, and instincts told him she would drive a man insane one day. He pitied the man who married her. You don’t have a clue which one is which, do you? Her green gaze was intense as she waited for him to confess that she was right.

Anderson took the lemonade from the little one and took a long drink to clear the dust from his throat. Thank you, Hannah, he said and quirked a cocky eyebrow at the dark haired one.

She frowned and rolled her eyes. Oh, very good. That took a genius to figure that one out, she quipped. Are you going to be staying here permanently or is this just a temporary visit until you can figure out who to pawn us all off on? Poor Pa always made excuses for you. ‘The army is Anderson’s life now.’ Her voice imitated their father’s deep voice in her last words.

Oh, stop it! the blond one interceded. He’s just got here after a long trip. Let him relax.

A memory filled his mind of two girls fussing and one, Lizzie, always being the voice of reason. He smiled at the dark hair one and replied, You should listen to Lizzie.

Perhaps you aren’t as dense as you first appear, Amelia retorted. I bet you don’t even recall burning my favorite doll when I was a child, do you?

Anderson laughed and saw her expression turn to delight. She thought she had him. He stood up and set the glass on the table next to his seat. Come on Phillip, what’s say you help me see to my horse. He smiled as the little boy’s eyes lit up brightly and ran to the door. As Anderson reached the door he stopped. And by the way, Amelia, it was Lydia’s doll that was set on fire, and I didn’t do it. Robby did.

The gasped that slipped from her lips was a pleasant reward to Anderson’s ears. She was going to be a handful, but at least he had won this round.

Once outside he lifted Phillip up on the horse and walked him towards the barn. Phillip was smiling from ear to ear as the barn door opened and Hal Robinson stepped out.

Anderson! Damn, you are a sight for sore eyes! Hal exclaimed.

Anderson laughed at the long-time farm hand’s reaction. He guessed it had more to do with the scene he had just left as opposed to the work on the farm. Yes, I’ve just left my interrogation from Amelia. She could cower many a drill sergeant!

Ain’t that the truth? Good girl, well, they all are, but that one can sure try a man’s patience. And don’t let her play you that it’s because your Pa is gone. She’s been that way, he explained. But like I said, she really is a good girl with a good heart. As long as you stay out of her way!

Hal had worked for his father as long as Anderson could remember. He had been married once, but his wife and child had died. He was about the age of Anderson’s father, Daniel Barton, and the children had always looked at him as a beloved uncle instead of just a hired hand.

So, Master Phillip, what do you think of this fancy horse your brother rode in on? Hal asked Phillip as he lifted the six-year-old out of the saddle.

He’s nice. What’s his name? the little blond haired, golden eyed boy asked.

Storm, Anderson answered.

Phillip reached up to pat the black horse’s side. Good, Storm. Good horse. Storm stood still as if he knew the young boy meant him no harm.

Reaching down and tousling Phillip’s hair, Anderson chuckled. Let’s give Storm his supper and then see about our own. How’s that sound?

After getting Storm settled into a stall and letting Phillip brush the steed down, Anderson suggested the little boy run inside and get cleaned up for supper. He needed to talk to Hal, and Hal had sensed it as well by staying and watching the two brothers tend to Anderson’s horse.

I don’t know what in the hell Dan was doing since your Mama passed away. The older man shook his head and looked towards the ground. He just gave up. Didn’t care about nothing. I talked to him every day about the farm, the crops, the animals. He would just look at me and say, ‘Whatever you think is best, Hal.’ I begged for his input. He just didn’t have any will left in him.

Anderson shook his head. That doesn’t sound like Pa. I mean, I know he loved Mama more than anything, but he loved us children too. I can’t imagine him giving up and turning his back on the children.

Hal sighed and sat down on the feed box. He wasn’t the same. And during the war, as each letter arrived with news of one of the others, you could almost see a little bit of life drain out of him. When Miss Eliza passed on, that seemed to extinguish all hope.

Now it was Anderson’s turn to sit. And it probably didn’t help that I wasn’t around. Hal didn’t answer, and that confirmed his thoughts. I was running from my own demons. It’s my fault the others ran off to enlist.

Now that’s not true. You Barton boys have always made your own decisions, and nothing you did could have prevented the others from leaving. Hal clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Miss Eliza knew your thoughts. She knew you blamed yourself.

Silence filled the barn for a long time. Anderson thought of the mother who always seemed to know exactly what each child was thinking and planning well before that child did. Growing up they had never been able to get away with anything while Eliza Barton was around.

What’s been going on here then? After Pa… his words trailed off as he found it hard to say that his father was dead.

Well, as I said, I’ve been running the farming side. Trying to keep an eye on the children. Lizzie and Amelia have been real good about the housework. Helen Martin stops out now and again to check on them and see how they are. He paused and took a deep breath. Miles has been out a few times.

Miles? Anderson interrupted. He’s back in town?

Hal nodded. He sent you the telegram. Nester sold out his share of the paper to him.

Is everything alright with him? Anderson knew Miles had left town after a blow up with his brother over a girl and her family. Even though he knew that Miles had been an innocent victim and wrongly accused, Anderson had thought his longtime friend would never come back home.

Nester and his family left a couple years back. Most everybody knows Miles got the raw end of the deal, so he’s a very welcome community member now.

Anderson smiled. It would be good to have a friend to talk to while he was back. Or at least until he decided what he was going to do. I’m glad he’s around. He’s a good man.

He’s buddied up pretty well with your little brother. Takes him fishing to give the girls a break from time to time. The lad is desperate for a man’s attention. Right after Dan died, Miles stepped in for Lizzie. Hal ran his fingers through his gray hair. That one has been taking this real hard.

Does she always wear men’s clothing? Anderson asked recalling her earlier outfit.

Shaking his head, Hal snorted. That started about the time your Pa took to his bed. And I don’t understand that at all. Hell, Amelia has always been rough and tumble, not afraid to get hurt or dirty. But Lizzie has always been a girlie girl. I don’t understand this phase.

Anderson stood up and walked around the barn looking it all over but not really seeing any of it. Oh, Lord, give me strength to get this all sorted out.

You back for good? Hal asked.

Letting out a long sigh, Anderson admitted, I don’t know yet. I just don’t know.

Anderson was washing up on the back porch when Lizzie approached him. Andy, she called softly.

He froze at that. It had been years since any one had called him Andy, and the familiarity made him smile. Yeah? he asked as he took a towel and dried his face.

She walked closer to him. Um, I needed to ask you something.

Anderson tossed the towel on the drying rack and raised an eyebrow at her. What is it?

She stumbled looking for the words, but he waited patiently. Well, you see, um, I was wondering if I could get some material for a new dress. Her face suddenly turned bright red and she looked away.

He studied her outfit of choice and noted her blush. Did she have a beau she wanted to impress with a new dress? He didn’t know how girls’ minds worked, but he knew boys weren’t exactly attracted to girls who dressed like men. I need to get Pa’s estate settled and all before we start spending money on extras. But if everything is fine, I don’t see why not.

Her face relaxed suddenly, and she let out a breath she was holding. Oh, really? Do you know how long it will take? she asked earnestly.

He shrugged. Couple of months, maybe. I’m not really sure.

Lizzie’s face quickly turned to despair. Months? she cried. I can’t possibly wait months!

Anderson watched her fighting tears. It had to be a boy. What else could make a young girl so desperate for a dress? Why don’t you start by wearing the dresses you already have?

She gasped and once again her face burned bright red.

And regardless of what you have been doing, I expect my sisters to be dressed properly for supper each night. None of these things you’ve been wearing.

Tears silently began to fall from her eyes, and before Anderson could find out what he had done, Lizzie turned and ran back in the house. He was left to scratch his head, but finally decided that it still had to be a boy. She was seventeen now, old enough to be trying to catch a boy’s eye. That was the only answer he could come up with.

Anderson Barton’s first supper at home was a memorable event, and not in a good way. Lizzie was late in appearing. Anderson thought she must be mad at him for making her put on a dress. Lydia had suddenly turned quiet and wouldn’t eat. Hannah sniffled quietly over her food. And when Lizzie finally did make an appearance, all hell broke loose.

A broad smile crossed Anderson’s face that Lizzie had put on a dress, never mind that she was wearing a heavy shawl. He was just pleased that she had dressed for supper. He was about to tell her she looked very nice when it happened.

That’s Ma’s shawl! Amelia snapped. She jumped up and ran at her sister.

Lizzie grabbed the shawl and wrapped her fists in it to hold it in place, while Amelia did her best to pull the thing from Lizzie. Who said you could take Ma’s things?

Lizzie was pleading with Amelia to stop. Stop! No! Don’t! she cried.

When Anderson recovered from the idea of all-out brawl happening in the dining room, he jumped up to break up the argument. But just as he reached his sisters, Amelia succeeded in pulling the shawl away from Lizzie. Lizzie was bent over in her last effort to hold on to it, and Anderson noticed the buttons on the back of her dress were missing leaving it wide open from her waist up.

Enough! he bellowed as he closed the gap between himself and the girls. But the fight was over.

Lizzie reached behind her and somehow managed to run backwards out of the room. Amelia folded the shawl carefully and then ran after her sister. Anderson walked back to the table and dropped back in his chair. He looked over at Lydia and Hannah who were staring after their older sisters. Eat, he snapped.

I’m not hungry, Lydia whined.

He sat his fork down, folded his hands, and silently asked the Lord for strength to get him through this meal. Why not?

I don’t feel good, she said.

What’s wrong?

Nothing! she snapped.

Well you just said you didn’t feel good, so you’ve got to know why? He felt himself started to lose his patience.

Why are you so mean! she screamed and ran out of the room.

Anderson counted to ten to calm himself. Just when he had decided he could finish his meal, he heard the crying. He looked up to see Hannah hunkered down in her chair sobbing. It was too much for him to handle. He stood up and tossed his napkin on his plate and stormed out of the room.

He entered his father’s study and shut the door. The smell of his father’s pipe tobacco still lingered within the four walls, and he breathed in deeply the memory of his Pa bent over the account books as he held his pipe in one hand. He walked over to a cabinet and opened the door, hoping against hope that there would still be a bottle of