PREVIEW OF OUT OF DREAMS AND ASHES

Prologue

Olivia Richard

1862

 

         “Come on, Olivia. We’re going to miss them.”

         Shawn, my little brother, four years younger than me at the annoying young age of ten, wore his butternut gray soldier’s uniform. In the last year, he’d had a growth spurt and his pants were already too short for him, stopping a full two inches above his ankles.

         He wasn’t a soldier, of course.

         He was only ten-years-old.

         And yet he wore his uniform day after day. And every day he asked Momma and Papa if he could join the army yet.

         He seemed to truly believe that he would suddenly wake up one day and they would declare him old enough to join the army.

         The war between the states had been going on for a year now. A year and a month to be exact. I knew because my sister had been married the very same day our southern boys had been called to arms.

         In my bedroom, I sat in a chair in front of the fireplace with Sadie, my lady’s maid curling my hair with a hot iron. She could somehow weave magic with a pair of hot iron tongs.

         As I turned fourteen last month, I was now allowed to wear my hair curled and pulled back on top of my head.

         My yellow dress splashed with green vines and burgundy flowers splashed across it was my first grown up dress. Instead of stopping six inches above my ankles, it went all the way to the floor.

         “Why do you care so much?” I asked Shawn. “You know the war will be ending soon.”    

         Shawn stood at my tall French windows opening out onto the second-story balcony outside my room.

         He was practically bouncing on his feet, walking back and forth, watching for the soldiers that according to Papa’s newspaper were supposed to be coming this way. It was confirmed by one of the neighbor’s boys who had spotted a regiment of soldiers heading this way. Why, that poor boy had nearly run himself into the ground getting here to tell Shawn about the soldiers.

         If the two of them, my brother and his friend, could sign up today, even at age ten, they would do it.

         “The war’s been going on for over a year and it hasn’t ended yet. Besides, I don’t want to miss it.”

         “Boys,” I said under my breath.

         “Now don’t go and ruin his day Miss Olivia,” Sadie said as she wove a yellow ribbon through my dark brunette hair. “He’s just a boy.”

         “I know, but I couldn’t bear it if he went to war. My sister’s husband went to war and he didn’t come back.” I fought the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes as I thought about Nathaniel. He always had a smile for me. He’d been such a kind man and a perfect match for my older sister. A widow now.

         “The war will be over long before Mr. Shawn is old enough to enlist.”

         “Shawn is so hard headed, I wouldn’t doubt if he ran away and joined the army anyway.”

         “They won’t take him, Miss,” Sadie said. “Don’t you fret. It’s a beautiful day today. At least enjoy being out in the sunshine. And you can keep an eye on your brother yourself. Make sure he doesn’t run off with them soldiers.”

         I gave Sadie a hug. She’s been with our family my whole life. She was a few years older, but we’d grown up together.

         “Enough of all that,” Sadie said. “Now. Take a look in the mirror. See what you think.”

         I turned around and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
         “My hair looks all grown up,” I said. She had woven the yellow ribbon artfully through my hair, purposely leaving a curl hanging loose on one side to rest on my shoulder.

         “You are grown up, Miss,” she said. “Now go. Wait with your brother.”

         I really had no choice.
         “Come on Shawn,” I said, lifting my long skirts so as not to trip over them. “Let’s go wait for your soldiers.”

         “Miss Olivia.” Sadie stopped me before I walked through the French doors that led to the balcony with stairs on the other end of the balcony.

         “Wear this,” she said, deftly tying a burgundy silk scarf around my neck. “Now go. Before you miss them.”

         I walked with Shawn down the stairs. We had no more than reached the ground when I heard the soldiers approaching.

         I heard the steady beat of their drums and then there was the singing. As they marched, their boots steadily pounding against the ground, they sang about a bonnie blue flag.

         Despite my initial reluctance to join my little brother in watching the soldiers, I felt my heart rate quicken.

         I’d never seen a regiment of soldiers up close and I was a little bit nervous about it. Even Shawn, who had been talking with nonstop excitement about the soldiers coming this way for two days, stood silent.

         It was, I realized one of those once in a lifetime occasions. Our country was at war with itself and these were our boys marching past.

         I didn’t know what I expected, but as they neared, they were not grand as I had expected. These men were not the same boys who had left here just over a year ago, all whooping and hollering with excitement about “whupping them Yankees.”

         These men were bedraggled and so much slower than I expected. A few of the men were on horseback, but most of them trudged on foot.

         Papa came out the back door to greet them as they neared. He spoke quietly with the man in front, the leader I guess. I couldn’t hear them, but after a few words, the soldiers headed toward our well for water.

         Shawn watched in awe as the soldiers waited their turn to slack their thirst and fill their canteens.

         One of the men, not looking a day over seventeen, slid off his horse and tossed the reins over the iron hitching post that no one used anymore. No one rode for pleasure anymore. All our energy was consumed with simply surviving. Surviving and staying close to home for fear that the enemy might be near.

         The soldier was clean-shaven and had a strong jawline. His dark hair brushed the collar of his jacket. He carried himself with confidence and his uniform was not so threadbare as the other men.       

         “I’m going to talk to him,” Shawn said, dashing forward.        

         “No. Wait. Shawn.” I had no choice but to follow my wayward little brother, lest he talk the soldier into taking him along with him.

         “Please excuse him,” I said catching up, but Shawn and the soldier were already deep in conversation.

         “No need to apologize, ma’am,” the soldier said, turning his clear blue eyes in my direction.

         “My brother can be overzealous as you can see by his uniform.”    

         “It’s a fine uniform,” the soldier said. “One to rival any of the men in my regiment.”

         “He’s a Lieutenant,” Shawn said. “Lieutenant McCue from Texas.”

         “Texas,” I said. “My goodness. Such a long way from here.”

         “Lucas, ma’am. Please call me Lucas.”

         “Very well. Lieutenant Lucas.”

         He smiled, revealing the hint of a dimple in his cheek.

         “This is my sister,” Shawn said. “Olivia.”

         “It’s a pleasure to meet you Olivia,” Lieutenant Lucas said, holding out a hand.

         I put my hand in his and he brushed his lips near the back of my hand, only touching my skin with his breath.

         “You can’t know what a pleasant sight it is to see one of our beautiful girls on the home front again.”

         “We are beholden to you all,” I said, finding my tongue.

         “Where do you go from here?” Shawn asked, excitedly.

         Lucas tore his gaze from mine and looked at my brother.

         “We’re heading up to Vicksburg,” Lieutenant Lucas said. “Although I fear it’s a lost cause.” He lowered his voice as he said it. “They need our help. General Pemberton, that’s him over there speaking to the man I assume is your father, is one of the most loyal men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, although it’s well known he’s from up north. Philadelphia to be specific.”

         “You don’t say,” I said, looking over at General Pemberton. To me he looked like any other of the officers. I wouldn’t have taken him for a man from the north.

         “Why is he here?” I wondered.

         “His wife is a southerner from Virginia.” Lieutenant Lucas seemed to know what I meant.

         “Papa is calling me,” Shawn said, dashing away, leaving us.

         I didn’t hear Papa calling Shawn, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that Shawn had quickly grown bored with our conversation.

         Shawn wanted to talk about fighting and battles. Not where people and their wives were from.

         “I’m afraid my brother has no manners whatsoever.”

         Lieutenant Lucas laughed.

         “He’s young and full of life. I like him.”

         It shouldn’t have mattered to me whether this soldier liked my brother or not, but it did. My heart warmed to him.

         “I don’t mean to keep you Miss Olivia,” he said. “I’ll join my men now and fill my canteen.”

         He took his canteen from his horse and tipped his hat at me before he took his leave.

         “Wait,” I said, going on impulse.

         He turned around and locked his gaze on mine with a little smile.

         I wasn’t sure what it was I wanted from him. I just wasn’t ready for him to go.

         I read the papers and the papers declared Vicksburg to be a southern stronghold. I’d heard Papa and his friends talking, too. There would be a battle at Vicksburg. I had no doubt about it.

         “Yes ma’am?”
         “I ‘um.” I felt a flush creeping up my neck and put a hand on my neck, finding the scarf that Sadie had tied around my neck.

         I pulled the burgundy silk scarf loose and held it out to him.

         “For you,” I said. “To remind you that we’re here.”

         With a little smile, he took the scarf and wrapped it around his own neck.

         “Thank you. I will keep it with me always to remind me why I’m fighting.”

         “You’re very kind.”

         “You’re the reason I fight this war, Miss Olivia,” he said. “Until we meet again.”

         I watched him walk away, the soldier who took my scarf with him.

         Papa had Shawn helping him with the well water.

         Papa would keep an eye on Shawn. I turned on my heel and went back inside.

         I had seen the soldiers and I had even spoken to one of them, befriended him even.

         I had done my patriotic duty.

         Besides, Lieutenant Lucas might be handsome, but it wasn’t like I’d ever see him again.

        

        

 

 

Chapter 1

Olivia Richard

Three Years Later

1865

 

         I woke in a cold sweat, my heart pounding dangerously. I was a mess on the inside.

         Outside everything seemed normal. Birds on the branches of the oak tree outside my window filled the air with their predawn birdsong.

         A couple of the old hound dogs had set up a ruckus not far away. Probably had something treed. Maybe a squirrel. Anything that moved was sport enough for the old hounds.

         I opened my eyes, but there was only the slightest hint of dawn spilling through my windows.

         I took deep breaths, slowly letting them out. Focused on the softly swaying moss outside my window.

         The moss only grew on the old oak trees, avoiding the younger healthier trees. The tree outside my window was of the old variety with lots of moss hanging from its branches.

         Everything outside was normal.

         On the inside, the remnants of a familiar dream swirled through me again.

         I stood at the door of a cabin, a log cabin in the mountains, looking out over a valley.

         It was so real, it terrified me. And this wasn’t the first time I’d had this dream.

         Especially so since I had never been out west. My sister had traveled west after her husband had been called away to fight on their wedding day. He had succumbed to the war, leaving my sister to fulfil his dream of moving out west.

         She should have taken Shawn and me with her, but I don’t think it had occurred to her at the time. Even if it had, there was no way Papa and Mamma would have allowed it.

         If my sister had not been a married woman who had made a promise to her husband, Papa would have forbidden her to go out there on her own. Married for less than a day.

         I’d been having the dreams on and off for several months now.

         In my dream, a river raged outside where I stood at the cabin door. Rapids spilling over large rocks. Boulders to be specific.  

         I didn’t know how I knew these things. There was nothing like this anywhere around here. Instead, from the window of my parents’ plantation house, in the winter when the trees were bare, I could see the slow moving Mississippi River.

         My bedroom was on the second-floor of the three-story plantation house with its twelve foot ceilings that helped keep the house relatively cool in summer.

         My bedroom had a large four-poster canopied bed and a dresser with a mirror and a little bench where I sat every night and every morning to brush my hair. A vase of little yellow daisies picked from my mother’s backyard garden sat on the dresser.

Silk netting over the bed added an extra layer of protection from the pesky mosquitoes, though in the summer heat the netting was stifling.

         The quilt on my bed was in my favorite light burgundy color and matched the velvet curtains in a darker burgundy pulled back at the windows. 

         My dresses hung in a chifforobe, my ribbons and shoes and shawls folded neatly on the shelves. Even though I owned a dozen dresses, they were years old and some were even threadbare.

         Gone were the days when I would have gotten a new dress for every ball—several each year. I had never really experienced that anyway since the war started when I was thirteen years old and now at seventeen, our world was still reeling with the scars left by the war.

         We were still in survival mode. I had vague memories of a world when young ladies were courted by gentlemen, dancing at balls and going on picnics.

         But that was not my world. Today, a Tuesday, my world would be consumed by laundry.

         Thinking about the mundane task of doing laundry helped a little to get my mind off the dream, but I would take whatever distraction I could get.

         The longer I stayed in bed, the more I would remember the dream.

         In my dream, the shadowy darkness of the woods surrounded the cabin. Off in the distance I could just barely see the hint of a glowing lantern, moving ever so slowly toward me.

         I wanted to go back inside the cabin, to get away from whatever the lantern brought, but my feet were frozen in place and I couldn’t move.

         That’s when I woke up. Every time I woke up after being unable to move.

         Tossing off the covers, I got out of bed.

         It was time to do something—anything—to shake off the last remnants of the dream that I kept having over and over.

 

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