Read A Magical Christmas for Free Online Page A

could come, he would come. He would come, because he knew that she would be worried, so anxious about him, about their boy. He would come, because they had parted so badly
.…
    Maybe he wouldn’t come.
    He
would!
she assured herself.
    If only…
    She jabbed her needle angrily through the shirtshe was mending. She stuck her fingertip, drawing blood. A sharp yelp of dismay escaped her.
    Oh, God! If only they hadn’t fought with such anger.
    But she was so weary of this war!
    Oh, they’d all been such hotheads when it all began, the Southern men. Because they did know how to ride, and they did know how to hunt—though now they tracked men instead of game. They believed that they fought for states’ rights—she believed they were fools. They saw themselves far too easily as romantic heroes—the direct descendants of their founding fathers. “We are just the same as our forebears!” the captain had told her angrily. “George Washington, our founding father, risked his neck daily to free the colonies from tyranny. Patrick Henry cried, ‘Give me liberty, or give me death!’ Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence, and I tell you, my love, these men weren’t just our founding fathers—they were Virginians. If they were alive today, they would be heading up the very battle we fight now.”
    Perhaps a great number of the Southern men believed they fought for states’ rights—but they were wrong. It was an economic war—even if a mere woman wasn’t supposed to see such things. The South was dependent on slavery. She pointed out to the captain that Thomas Jefferson, who hadwritten the Declaration of Independence, had been well aware that the issue of slavery would raise its ugly head soon enough. He—like
the
founding father, George Washington himself—had freed his slaves
at his death
. Neither Jefferson nor Washington had brought about the freedom issue while still being served in this life. The simple point was that slavery was wrong, and men who seemed to know that very fact somehow managed to ignore it.
    She wished to God that Washington and Jefferson had somehow managed to take the bull by the horns and settle the matter
during
their lifetimes!
    But men… men would be men.
    Stubborn, determined. Narrow-sighted.
    Like the captain. He had taken his boys and signed up with Mosby. They were the Gray Ghosts of the Confederacy and could ride circles around the Northern forces; they so often thought themselves invincible, even when they had seen so much death and carnage already. The beautiful hills and valleys, mountainside and coastline of Virginia all raged with battle, and few living there had been left untouched. She had left her own home time and time again, aware that Northern troops were advancing in the area. The Northern troops were frequently enough in and around Front Royal. The difference here was that she was not alone, and at Christmasshe had determined not to be at her home alone with her daughter should the Yankees choose to seek a fine, warm Southern plantation for their December headquarters.
    Her fingers moved deftly upon her sewing again. Pride, she mourned suddenly. She sat here mocking the captain for his pride, when it was really her pride that had brought her here. She’d been so angry with him. And he’d refused to see things her way. So she had left their home. The Yankees might indeed take her house—that was no idle fear. But they would come, and they would go. They would steal everything in sight, but it would be most unlikely that they would hurt her. She had left the house because she so desperately wanted her husband to follow her, to come to her.
    And now, she just wanted to see him.
    How easy it had been before the war to take advantage of one another! To lose patience with each other.
    She was so sorry.
    If she could just see his face… see him ride up to her now! So tall and handsome, so quick to smile. Not perfect in any way, but neither was she. He was just the