Prologue

Old Lick, Virginia

1867

Edith Adkins was intrigued by the dark-haired stranger leaning against the trunk of the thick oak tree outside the largest church in Old Lick, where the weekly charity was being held. In the two years following the War Between the States, the Virginian economy had been slow to improve, and many men who had served were still without jobs and even homes. Some of these men had families they could no longer provide for. This meant it was up to the Christian folks to step up and help their neighbors.

Edith, a tall, nineteen-year-old woman with long, caramel-colored hair and large brown eyes, had been known ever since she was a little girl for her servant’s heart and desire to be God’s hand and feet. Now, she spent every afternoon and sometimes well into the evening volunteering, serving hot meals to destitute families. For most that came through the church, this was the only full meal they would eat that day.

This was the third day in a row that the stranger had come to the charity. He arrived alone, not with a family as most people did, and he waited until the women and children had all been served before getting in line for his portion. The first week Edith served him, he looked up at her with hollow brown eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting sufficient rest or nutrition, but that were also kind and gracious for the meal. He didn’t eat his food at the tables inside the church hall like the rest of the people but carried his plate to his usual spot under the oak tree, lowering himself on his haunches beneath its shade.

On the third day, Edith spotted him outside against the tree. She excused herself from the serving line and began fixing a plate of cornbread, beans, and sausage. She had decided that this time, she would bring the food to him. Perhaps then she could learn more about this gaunt, lonely, but handsome stranger who had now appeared thrice.

It was early October, and as usual, at this time of the year in Virginia, the leaves had begun to change to their autumn colors and decorate the churchyard. Despite the loud crunching sound the leaves made under her boots as she stepped across the churchyard, he didn’t seem to hear her approach. He stared off into the distance, but his eyes were not fixed on anything in this world. He was staring straight through the tops of the trees and beyond the clouds, lost in another place entirely.

It was not until Edith was under the tree mere feet away from him that she spoke.

“I brought you a plate of food,” she said tentatively, unsure what kind of reaction to expect from him. What she wasn’t expecting was for the man to jump at the sound of her voice, the type of startle one might expect from someone who just heard fireworks explode from mere feet away. He quickly turned his head to look at her, and his facial muscles relaxed as he realized she was not a threat. His eyes were kind, just as they had been the first time she encountered him, and the corners of his lips curled into a smile.

“Thank you,” he nodded at her, amicably accepting the plate of food and wasting no time shoveling a spoonful of beans into his mouth.

Edith watched, not with judgment but curiosity. She had lived in the large town of Old Lick, Virginia, her entire life but had never seen this man before, although that did not mean much in these post-war times; so many people, especially former soldiers from the war, had been displaced and now every town across the state and the neighboring states had newcomers. Some were trying to find a new place to settle, and others were just passing through on their way to find themselves again.

“My name is Edith Adkins,” she introduced herself. She was eager for more information about this mysterious man and decided to take that first step.

He bowed his head just slightly as a show of respect. Although Edith was taller than the average female, his lean frame still put him several inches ahead of her in height. “Jasper Winters. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Edith.”

“Were you a soldier?” Edith asked, surprising herself by the blunt nature of her question but emboldened by the geniality in response to her introduction.

He paused at her question, his fork hovering in mid-air for just a moment as if also taken aback by her suddenness, and then he nodded.

“First Virginia Infantry Regiment,” he said, lifting his cornbread with his fingers and taking a large bite.

“That was brave of you,” Edith offered some validation to him. She was inexplicably fascinated by this man, drawn by the distant look in his eyes that seemed to have stories to tell, and she didn’t want the conversation to end. She hoped for more information about him, but his answers were brief.

“I didn’t have much of a choice, I suppose,” Jasper said sadly. “My brother and I were pulled into the war as soon as the government passed the draft in April of ’62. He didn’t survive to see ’63.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Edith said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in an attempt to tame it from the autumn wind. She meant what she said to Jasper—the war had taken so much from so many people, and the tearing apart of families had hit the hardest.

Jasper offered Edith a forlorn smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and she could tell that he was grateful for her condolences. Perhaps she was one of the first to ever offer him those words. “I still believe you were brave, whether it was your choice or not. You could have run away, after all.”

He nodded as if he were considering her thoughts but remained silent. It was not a rude silence; he did not give the impression that he wanted her to leave. Instead, he came across as out of practice interacting with people in casual conversation. Edith felt an inexplicable urge to help him with this, to continue prodding him with questions until he felt comfortable opening up. He had already told her about the loss of his brother, and that was a start.

“Why do you eat out here alone and not in the church with everyone else?” Edith asked. “There’s plenty of room inside.”

“I just don’t like being around too many people at one time.” Jasper shrugged, offering Edith a shy smile. He had a nice smile. It made him appear less troubled. “Too many people means too much noise, and a lot of noise gets under my skin.”

Edith nodded in understanding. “Is that why you jumped when I came up to you just a moment ago?”

Jasper didn’t answer directly, just looked down at the ground, kicking at the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “I’ve been that way since the war. Sudden noises make me jump. Like it did something to my nerves, but nothing the doctors could diagnose. I keep thinking it will get better, but it’s been two years…” Jasper’s voice was forlorn as he spoke before trailing off altogether.

“My father is the doctor here in Old Lick. Perhaps he can suggest a nerve tonic?” Edith suggested eagerly. Something about this man continued to pull at her heartstrings and trigger her innate urge to help people in need. It was a quality she had had since early childhood when she would try to nurse wounded birds back to health. She always had a propensity to fix that which was broken.

“Maybe,” Jasper conceded. “I just need to get a few more weeks of work under my belt to start saving money. I got to town a little under a week ago and have been working on the Rutty Plantation doing farm work. It’s been taking some time to rebuild my life, but I’ll get there.”

Edith wanted to ask where he had spent the past two years since the war’s end, but she was afraid she had already done too much prying. However, it turned out that she didn’t have to ask, as she seemed to have earned Jasper’s trust, and he began to confide in her.

“After the war ended, I didn’t have a place to go home to. My mother fell ill during the war, and my father banished me from the house. He blamed me for my brother’s death. He was younger, and I guess he thought it was my job to look out for him. He didn’t understand what it was like in the war—there was no way to look out for anyone.”

His eyes grew distant, fixed on that hidden place beyond the clouds where they had been when Edith had first approached him.

“Well, thanks be to God that you are here now!” Edith said, placing a comforting hand gently on his forearm. He flinched slightly at the touch, but he didn’t jump.

“Truthfully, I’m still haunted by the war,” Jasper said sadly. “I don’t know if that will ever change.”

“With God, all things are possible,” Edith said firmly, her voice commanded with conviction. “As horrible as this war has been and as tremendous the effects it has had on those who were on the frontlines, I believe with all my heart that God is bigger. He will heal you. Do you believe that?”

Jasper met her gaze, looking not just at her eyes but her whole face, taking her in for the first time. He turned his gaze downward to the diamond-shaped scar on her chin from the time she fell off a horse as a young girl of ten. Edith hadn’t been on a horse since. Seeing him notice it, Edith found herself drawn in, trying to hide the imperfection.

“I want to believe it,” Jasper said finally, his eyes locking with hers.

Edith sucked in a breath of air. There was a strange, electric energy when Jasper’s eyes met hers, and it wasn’t something she had ever felt. She pushed it from her mind because she was here to do the Lord’s work, and she knew God was calling her to help Jasper Winters.

“Can I pray with you?” Edith asked softly. “That is always the best place to start.”

Jasper nodded, and he followed Edith’s lead as she kneeled, her knees pressing into the dirt and fallen leaves beneath the oak tree. The light was fading as the sun descended, and Edith realized she had lost track of how much time they had spent talking. Jasper set aside his now-empty plate and mirrored her posture, bowing his head and folding his hands.

“Lord,” Edith started. “We come to You today asking You to rain Your healing powers over Jasper. Just as You healed the leper and the paralyzed man, please place Your hands over Jasper and heal his wounded mind that is plagued with terrible memories from the war. Replace those thoughts with clean, pure, and good thoughts so that Jasper may more experience life and live it abundantly, as You desire for all Your children.”

As she finished her prayer, she kept her eyes closed and her head bowed for another moment, inviting the Holy Spirit to join them and hoping Jasper could feel His comforting presence.

“Amen,” she said finally, and Jasper echoed the same.

“I should go,” Edith said hurriedly, standing up and brushing dirt and pieces of leaves from her knees. “My father will be expecting me home.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Jasper asked with an urgency in his voice that made Edith’s heart leap. She knew he hoped to see her again, and she had to admit she hoped the same. She had genuinely enjoyed their talk—even the parts that weren’t about pleasant things.

“I’m here every day, so perhaps you will!” Edith said as she hastened away from the church toward home. She knew it wasn’t attractive for a young woman to appear too eager.

***

Edith arrived home no less than ten minutes later. Her father, Dr. Michael Atkins, had already closed up his medical clinic attached to their house, a thick brick wall separating the two sections of the one building. Dr. Atkins, a tall, slender man from whom Edith inherited her height and intense brown eyes, sat at the table while their housemaid, Anne, served supper, and Edith took her place at the table.

“Was it a busy day at the church?” Dr. Atkins asked, knowing Edith spent her days volunteering. He supported her efforts, being a man of faith who was sympathetic to the plight ex-soldiers faced after the war.

“It was a busy, successful day,” Edith said, digging into her dinner. She never ate at the church because she felt saving that food for those who truly needed it was important. She told her father all about her meeting with Jasper Winters, the ex-soldier who had been willing not only to open up to her about his struggles but who had let her pray over him.

She did not tell her father about his handsome face or how she felt when he had briefly looked at her, but her enthusiasm must have hinted that it did not derive entirely from spiritual matters because his brow wrinkled with worry.

“You need to be careful, Edith,” he said when she had finished. “Trust me when I tell you this because I have seen it more times than I care to count in my line of work. The war changed many men.”

“Of course, Pa,” Edith said seriously. She had been working with these veterans for a long time, so this fact was not something with which she was unfamiliar. But her father shook his head.

“I don’t mean in the usual way that life experiences can alter a person. I mean, it did something to their mind. I can’t explain it, and I don’t know if the world of medicine will ever be able to explain how or why this happens, but what men see and experience on the battlefield has altered the chemistry of some of their minds. They come back disordered… and in many cases, it’s irreversible.”

“I understand your concern, father,” Edith sighed, setting down her fork and reaching across the table for his hand. Her father had always been protective of her. He raised her on his own after her mother died of illness when she was not yet a year old. It had been just the two of them her entire life. “And I respect your expertise in the medical field. But as a man of faith yourself, you must remember that God has the power to heal what doctors can’t.”

“That might be true,” Dr. Atkins conceded. “I’m not negating miraculous healings. Certainly, they take place. But it’s not the place of a young woman to carry the burden of trying to fix someone who has been so deeply damaged. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Just promise me that you will be cautious.”

“I promise,” Edith faithfully said. She did not want to worry her father and had every intention of being cautious.

At the same time, Edith felt deep in her soul that her meeting and prayer with Jasper today had been a sign from God that, although he was hurt, he had not fallen beyond repair.

And she was the one God was calling to help Jasper heal and become the man he was before he fell victim to the ravages of war.

Chapter One

1867—6 months later

Old Lick, Virginia

Edith’s heart was so full she thought it might burst as she laid her wedding dress over the length of her bed and thought about how it would be the last night she would spend in her childhood bedroom.

She rubbed her fingers over the lace cuffs at the end of the long sleeves of the dress and then ran her hand down the folds and ripples that ran along the body and the fullness of the skirt. Tomorrow, she would be wearing this beautiful dress as she walked down the aisle of the church, the same church where she and Jasper first met, to take her vows and become his wife.

It had been a blessed, six-month courtship that had begun almost immediately after that first day they talked at the church charity. Jasper had admitted to her only a few days later that something stirred inside him when she prayed over him that first day, that he had felt a peace he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he attributed it not only to God but also to her influence. Edith’s heart had swelled with satisfaction and fulfillment at knowing that God had used her in such a profound way, that she had had a hand in the healing of another.

She began meeting Jasper daily at the charity, praying with him and introducing him to other members of the Old Lick community, helping him get settled in and feel more at ease. She also started bringing him lunch at the Rutty Plantation, where he worked, and she noticed that the more time passed, the healthier Jasper seemed to be. His eyes were less hollow, and the times he stared off into the distance and retreated into his head became fewer and further between.

About two weeks after their first meeting, sitting under a weeping willow tree having lunch at the plantation, Jasper admitted to Edith that he only felt whole around her. She made him forget all the horrors of war and brought him back to the land of the living. He began to open up to her about some of his experiences after the war.

“I roamed from place to place, but I couldn’t keep a job. I would go into these horrible fits of violence—not toward any person, I didn’t want to hurt anyone else, but I did damage property. And myself. I even jumped in a well at one point, just wanting to end it all…”

Edith gasped and put her hands over her mouth in horror. She had heard of stories of men who had come back from the war physically ill, their minds ‘disordered,’ which was the word her father used, but she had never heard of something quite so gruesome as violence toward one’s own life.

“After that, the local justice of the peace had me committed to an asylum. I was able to get better there. Something about the solitude must have tempered my rage. Other men weren’t so lucky.”

Jasper’s willingness to share these intimate parts of his past with Edith, something he said he had never felt comfortable telling anyone other than her, had only brought them closer together. They shared their first kiss that day and had been inseparable ever since.

There had been some rough patches. There were still times when they would be spending time together, and Jasper’s muscles would tense. His eyes would lose their focus as his mind went somewhere else entirely. Even though that didn’t happen as often as it once did, he still had his moments. Her father said this was normal, and perhaps he would suffer from episodes like this for the rest of his life. Although her father had blessed the engagement, she knew he still worried about Jasper’s condition.

There were also times when Jasper had sudden fits of anger. He never physically harmed her, and Edith never worried that he would, but she often worried about his own safety when he would go into one of these fits. She remembered icing his hand after he put it through a wall in the barn at the plantation. This was where he now had his own patch of land with a small house where they would live.

Yet the good moments far outweighed the ones marred by the toll the war had on his mental state. Other than their lunches at the plantation and weekly dinners with her father, they would go to church together every Sunday and then go for a stroll along the nearby creek, sometimes to talk about the sermon and other times to skip rocks and enjoy each other’s company. Jasper had even started to volunteer at the church charity with her, and he was getting better at being around crowds of people.

Two months ago, during a charity event at the church beneath the very tree where they had first met and prayed together, Jasper asked for her hand in marriage.

“You make me whole again,” he told her while down on one knee. “You are the only thing since the war that has made me that way. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.”

Edith had accepted his proposal with joy and enthusiasm and no hesitation. It had always been her dream to be a wife and a mother, and now that dream would come to fruition.

These memories ran through Edith’s head like a series of photographs as she admired her dress. She was about to hang it back up until tomorrow when a sharp rap sounded on her bedroom door.

“Come in!” Edith called, and Anne opened the door at once. Anne had been like a surrogate mother to Edith over the years, having worked for her family since her mother had taken ill. She was a homely, plump woman, not traditionally beautiful by any means, but the type of person who brought maternal comfort with them whenever they walked into a room.

Today, however, she wore a worried expression that imparted a sense of dread as she held an envelope with Edith’s name scrawled across the front in messy handwriting.

“Is something wrong?” Edith asked, frowning. Her immediate thoughts went to her father. She often worried that he worked too hard, being the sole doctor in Old Lick, and that, at some point, the amount of stress would prove bad for his health.

“I’m not certain, but I was told this letter came from Mr. Winters,” Anne said, wringing her hands. “The messenger who delivered the letter looked pained.”

Edith’s frown deepened as she tore open the envelope in a hurry. Something deep in the pit of her stomach told her this wouldn’t be a groom’s love letter to his bride on the eve of their wedding.

She pulled out the folded paper inside the envelope and began to read. She had not even gotten to the second line when her hand flew over her mouth, and she sat on the bed in shock, oblivious that she was sitting on top of her wedding dress.

Dearest Edith,

It brings me no joy and only sadness to write you this letter. I have thought over a thousand times what I want to say, what I could possibly say that would make this hurt less, for it has never been my wish to bring you any pain. It is with great regard for you and an earnest desire to protect you from pain that I must write this letter. For the temporary pain you will experience after reading this will be better than the lifelong pain that will come from being married to me.

The truth is that I cannot in good conscience allow you to be bound to me in marriage. I am still too broken, and I know that I am in no condition to fulfill my duties as a husband or a father in my condition. You wouldn’t know this now, but if we were married, you would soon learn that I wake in the night, sometimes multiple times, screaming into the darkness, wetting the sheets with my sweat as memories from the war come back to haunt my dreams. I see my brother die in front of my eyes and often will wake myself up yelling his name, shouting obscenities at those responsible for his death. I have not been able to stop having these dreams in all this time, and I cannot condemn you to a life of nights like this.

When I asked you to marry me, I told you that you make me feel whole. While true, it should not be your burden to make me whole. I cannot be anyone’s husband until I can be whole on my own. I don’t know when or if or how that will happen, but I know that it is a journey I must pursue on my own before I bind myself to another.

I truly love you, Edith. You have given me the happiest six months of my life, a happiness that I didn’t think possible during my darkest days after the war. I hope that with time, you will see that this letter is not a rejection but an act of love.

Love always,

Jasper

Edith’s hands trembled as she read and re-read the letter, and soon, her whole body began to shake. She pinched herself once, then twice, on her forearm, digging her fingernails into her skin and hoping that a lack of pain would reveal that she was having an awful, pre-wedding nightmare. She would wake up, and it would be her wedding day, and all would be well. But the sting of the pinch was immediate. This was no dream.