Read A Heartbeat Away: Quilts of Love Series for Free Online

clear his mind of shooting, the constant drone of cannonading and rifle, the awful screams of torment that seemed to surround him, suck him in to a level of pain and torture he didn’t want to experience. His dream. Of course. But if he’d dreamed it, then it wasn’t real. But why was his shoulder hurting just like in the dream? Why was he flat on his back?
    “No more.”
    Her eyebrows knitted in question and he knew what he said somehow hadn’t made sense to her, but it made sense to him. All of it. The war.
    “It would be good if you could drink something.”
    She didn’t wait for an answer, her skirts fanning the air as she swept off toward another room. He had not the strength to turn his head and follow her path. He closed his eyes and waited for her to return, hoping she would reappear soon. He didn’t want to go back to sleep or fade into the darkness that held all those memories. Come back. Talk to me. Let me forget. Make me forget . . .

    Nothing made sense. In the haze of weariness, Beth understood a little of what was to come. Confederates had stopped throughout the day, appearing with apples in their hands from the Pipers’ orchard they’d tromped through they came scurrying across the hills and valleys of the farms. A skirmish broke out right in their front yard when a Union soldier was found hiding in the barn across the street.
    Beth saw everything from her window. She stood, transfixed by the authoritative yelling voices, the snap of fire, the cloud that rose over the three Confederate and the one Union soldier, obliterating the outcome. When the smoke cleared, the men headed toward Gerta’s dooryard and the Union man lay still on the dirt road. A lone man. Dying or dead. And no one cared except her.
    Her spine snapped straight, and she flung the package of quilt blocks onto her bed and streaked down the steps just as Gerta turned from the closed door.
    “Don’t let them in!”
    Gerta’s puzzled gaze skimmed over her.
    “They just shot a man . . .” she paused, knuckles white against the railing, choking on a surge of anger.
    “It’s too late for that, Bethie. They’ve all shot someone at some point. You should know that.”
    She darted forward and yanked open the yard door. The Confederates lounged on the steps, their faces turned toward her. “Get out of here! Get off our porch, you lousy, no good—” She lost her voice. The men rose and parted as she lunged forward, lifting her skirts to clear the steps. She darted across the lawn.
    Union blue flashed in the sunlight as she knelt beside the man’s unmoving form. She turned him over, gaped at the blood, uncaring that it soaked into her skirts and stained her fingers. She imagined seeing Jedidiah’s face, dreaded it, was relieved when it wasn’t, then horrified at the hole in the side of his head. Bile surged upward, burning her mouth. She released his head, stuffed a fist to her mouth and bit down hard to squelch the scream.
    The Confederates were there beside her, stone-faced. They said nothing. Did nothing. Beth rose to her feet, defeated. Nothing could be done for the man. It all balled together in her stomach—the deed, the senseless death, the gore, the innocence . . . Little Leo . . .
    She faced the Rebs armed with a choking rage. They fell back, the one in the center motioning the other two to follow him, and they walked away, toward the Pipers’ farmhouse.
    A soft hand on her sleeve made her flinch, and she jerked. “Joe needs tending,” Gerta’s voice was a firm whisper in her ear. “There will be more coming. More death and dying, Beth.”
    “I can’t do this.”
    “What about them? What toll do you think it takes on them?”
    She shot a look at the departing men. “Nothing. They like it.”
    “That’s your rage talking.”
    Indignation rose. “They shot him. I watched it happen. Like he was a dog—”
    Gerta tugged on her arm. “Come on, Beth. I’ll have Jim come and bury him. Joe needs your