Abigail's Pursuit

Excerpt

1

Shippensburg, Pennsylvania

June 1, 1864

Dead. Dead. Dead. With each shovelful of dirt Abigail Stewart flung into the hole, the word reverberated in her soul. How could this be happening again? A tear slid down her cheek as silent sobs echoed through her frame. If only there'd been enough money to bury Pa in a pine box. She pinched her eyes closed as a shuddering breath escaped. She couldn't even afford to give her father a proper burial. Would God ever forgive her?

Wiping the moisture with the back of her hand, she returned to the business of filling Pa’s burial site. He would understand she'd done the best she could, wouldn't he?

Her arms quivered and tears flowed again with each shovelful she flung. What were You thinking, Lord?

The Almighty didn’t answer. He hadn’t stopped Pa from dying either. Or any of the rest of Abi’s family.

She sniffed, tamping the dirt flat with the back of her shovel. Didn’t seem right to just leave. She sucked in a breath as she snatched the worn hat from her head. Her shoulders quaked. “Lord, I don’t know why You’ve seen fit to take Pa from me. He was a good man.” Abi scrubbed the tears from her face, lifting her chin a notch. “Help me to preserve the legacy he and Granddaddy passed down to me.” Her gaze settled on the far field. Bright green corn leaves poked through the sun-hardened soil, the young plants blowing in the hot breeze. “While Pa has his reunion up there with the f-family… c-could You send some rain? We were counting on this crop. If only Pa had waited…” She raised her head to the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. “I guess that’s it, Lord.” She swallowed despite the lump in her throat. “Amen.”

With a sigh, Abi turned away from the grave and plodded to the barn, dragging the shovel behind her. The tink of the metal blade against a rock sent a chill up her spine. She propped the shovel against the barn door and snagged the wooden bucket and an old rag just inside the interior. Abi tucked the bit of cloth into the waistband of her brother’s trousers. The bucket banged against her leg with each step as she traipsed to the back of the house her grandfather had built when he came to the area many years ago.

The pump handle creaked as she worked it up and down. Cool water splashed into the bucket. She dipped her fingers into the liquid, then touched her fingertips to her sweaty forehead. What she wouldn’t do for a bath, but it would have to wait. Abi headed back to the barn and scooped up the shovel. She fished the rag from her waistband and plunged it into the water. Scrubbing until every speck of dirt was cleaned from the blade, she set it aside to dry and stepped into the barn. Her horse knickered, calming her bruised spirit.

She crossed to the first stall where Dusty snorted and tossed her head. Abi wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck and held on as if it were the only thing to keep her upright. “What am I going to do without him?” she whispered.

Dusty nuzzled her side.

“Sorry, girl. No treats today.”

The horse didn’t move. Maybe they had a way of sensing things, the way dogs did.

Abi sniffled. “Guess I best get to it. Avoiding won’t make the task any easier.” She patted the mare’s head and turned back to the pail of water.

The water splashed as she hitched the bucket to rest on her hip. Trudging through the field, she took special care not to step on the newly growing corn. Her steps faltered as she got about halfway up the hill. Abi slowed, reluctant to get closer to the rock jutting from the dry soil. Crimson soaked one side. Her stomach churned. Abi gulped and closed her eyes as she poured half of the water on the rock, refusing to watch as Pa’s blood likely soaked into the ground along with the water.

Pouring a little more water, she opened her right eye partway and peeked at the area. Taking a deep breath, she opened both eyes and swirled the rag around in the water. She knelt and scrubbed the rock. Dipping the cloth again and again in the bucket and scrubbing the rock with every ounce of her being. Her fingers and shoulders began to ache. The hard dirt and little pebbles poked her knees. Tears ran down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Still, she persisted.

“What’re you doing?” A masculine voice broke through her mindless scrubbing.

She gasped, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered up at him. Her limbs trembled as she stood.

He touched her elbow, steadying her.

Dark hair tumbled across his forehead. He looked familiar but she couldn’t place him. The blue coat from his Union uniform was slung over one shoulder. The brass buttons glimmered in the sunlight.

Abi shifted the bucket. “What can I do for you?”

The stranger stared at her for a minute. Almost as if she should know who he was.

She racked her brain trying to come up with a name.

“Is your pa here?” He adjusted a black hat, revealing striking blue eyes.

They reminded her of the summer sky. Except they had a hidden depth to them. Almost haunting.

“Miss?”

She blinked away the moisture lacing her eyes. Abi sniffed. “Pa… he’s um… not here.”

The young man glanced around. “I could wait for him.” He studied her as he ran a hand along his trimmed dark beard.

Her throat tightened. For a moment, the man’s profile reminded her of her fallen brother, Adam. Abi’s gut clenched. What would it have been like if Adam had made it home from the war? At least then she’d have someone to support her in her grief. Her chin quivered, and she fell to the ground in a heap. She couldn’t halt her sobs if she tried.