From Disaster to Destiny

By Beth Eades Jones

There are always two sides to every story. In this post Civil War story we can come to understand the feeling and losses on the South or the Confederacy side. These are the losses felt by the every day citizens, both the soldiers who fought and died and those they left behind. The same scenario was evident in the North. War (truly) is hell, as one character states in this story.

The Mail Order Bride became a true American phenomenon of the late 18th century. This is the story of one particular pair of Southerners involved in this adventure in far off Wyoming Territory.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664218345

Beth Eades Jones

Beth became interested in writing as a teenager but did not pursue it actively. She grew up on a farm and especially loved working with horses. She sang and performed quite a lot but never professionally. The need to express and inform became stronger as life went on. She recently wrote two works of fiction. Both are based on central values of the Christian faith along with American history. Both are also inspirational romances. She likes to read such works and tried to pattern her new endeavors after that. Beth’s articles on her world travels were published in her local home town Kansas newspaper. She also submitted a series of true stories titled Floppy My Freaky Fido about the small, mongrel and incredible dog she had as a child.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

S outh Carolina, in fact the whole south, will never be the same. Paul Peterson thought to himself as he rode into the outskirts of Charleston in route to his home of Centerville.

Paul was a returning ex confederate soldier. The year was 1872. He had been gone for 10 years.

"There is the site of the old North Church. Nothing there now. The Yanks must have burnedd it down back in 64.

I sure hope the folks are alright. I hope seeing me again won’t be too big of a shock." He said this to the draft horse that was a gift to him from the doctor who had released him from his care and responsibilities at the hospital in Virginia.

As the doctor handed him the reigns he told him. You deserve something Paul for being such a model patient and prisoner and for helping me with the wounded soldiers so much these past years. May God keep you.

Now as he patted the big gray’s neck he said, Thanks for bringing me home. You’re a good mount Moses old boy.

Eventually they turned a familiar corner. The street sign read Pine, and soon he saw a very welcome sight. Petersons Mercantile was painted in bold letters over the door of the General Store his family owned. Instantly his mind went back to the many happy days he had spent there helping his parents while growing up.

The bell over the door rang as he entered, and almost immediately there was his mother coming from behind the front counter. As she gazed at him she asked in a shaky voice, Son is it you?

Yes it is me mother. It is Paul.

The next moment she seemed to be on the verge of fainting, so he quickly crossed the floor and caught her.

She exclaimed, Oh son it is as if you have returned from the dead!

As he embraced her Paul heard another familiar voice coming from the store room. Vi I could swear I just heard Paul’s voice. It was his father Aaron Peterson. The big man stopped in his tracks then and looked at the stranger standing next to his wife. Paul is that you?

Yes Dad it’s me.

Oh son I am so glad to see you. You are alive, and you are home. You are home! He reached for Paul’s hand but instead pulled him into an embrace. Then as they all stood with tears welling up in their eyes, they each looked intently at each other’s faces noting the marks that time and sadness had left.

We got notice that you had been killed at the battle of Spotslvania, Virginia in May of 64. Where have you been all of this time?

His mother led him to a chair behind the counter as both parents plied him with questions.

I got a head wound, and because the Yanks won that battle, they rounded up all of the prisoners. The injured ones of us were taken to an Army hospital in central Virginia. My memory was lost. I didn’t even know my own name for eight years. I was well physically fairly soon, but not mentally that was for sure. I started helping with the other wounded soldiers. I felt sorry for them all, especially those who were not right in their heads. Many had terrible nightmares and memories of battles, both on the North and the South sides. I didn’t know anything about myself, yet I felt for the ones affected by war the most, namely us soldiers.

Patting his shoulder, his father commented, That sounds like you Paul.

Paul shrugged his shoulders then went on, After the war was over a good doctor kept me on as his assistant. They didn’t know what eles to do with the way I was.

Oh my poor, poor boy. His mother sobbed. Then she asked,When did you start remembering things?

It was October 10th. That day I suddenly remembered everything about myself. The next day I started home.

Paul abruptly changed the subject. How is Annalea? Do you see her often?

His mother answered with a shake of her head. She is fine, but she is gone Paul.

Gone, gone where? He practically shouted. Are you telling me she is dead, that the Yanks killed her?

Calm down son. His father cautioned. She took the train just three days ago to marry a doctor in Montana. She became one of those so-called Mail Order Brides.

What is a Mail Order Bride? Why would she do that? he demanded.

Calm yourself dear. Let’s go to the store room and I will make you a nice cup of tea and tell you all about it. Violet Peterson always liked having a cup of hot tea especially when life seemed overwhelming.

That is a good idea Vi, said Aaron. Just then a customer came through the door. Good afternoon Walter. What can I sell you today?

The store room looked as familiar as the front of the mercantile, but it all felt strange to Paul just being back home.

As she prepared the tea his mother related the story of the Mail Order Bride and how it had become a real phenomenon in recent years.

Annalea held on to hope for all these years son that you would have miraculously survived and would return home to us all. She is still young, and lonely, so one day she answered one of those advertisements that men from out west post in eastern and southern news papers. After two months of writing letters, I think she told us she got four, she received train fare and other travel expenses and soon was on her way.

When did you say she left? he asked still finding it hard to believe.

Three days ago. Her mother and I saw her off at the depot. Talk about a sad farewell. You should have seen the tears Mabel Stratford shed when she said goodbye to her.

CHAPTER TWO

T hat evening as Paul sat on the front porch of his parent’s small house behind the store, the same thought kept going through his mind, I was on my way home. I was less than 100 miles away 3 days ago. How could this have happened to me, to us?

Staring into the deepening night sky he suddenly knew what he must do.

As he charged through the front door he declared. I am taking the next train to Montana. What town is it?

In reply Aaron said, Billings. It is reported to be a growing place, and Annalea was told the winters are not as severe as in the western mountains. Then he shook his head sadly and added, Going there will do no good son. You will undoubtedly be too late.

Undaunted, Paul demanded further, How far is it? How many days by train? Do you know?

Annalea found out at the train station that it would take eight days if there were no major delays which would probably be due to the weather.

Yes, winter weather is very cold there. Why would she go now and not wait until Spring?

Vivian Peterson looked sympatheticly at her son, still thrilling over seeing him again. "She told us when we advised her to wait that she just wanted to get on with