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  She didn’t want to wake him too abruptly, but she also didn’t want him to suffer any longer than necessary. Angeline leaned down and took his hand.

  “Sam, wake up.”

  He squeezed her hand so hard she heard her bones rubbing together. She gasped at the pain and decided the quiet method wasn’t going to work.

  “Sam! Wake up!” she shouted near his ear. “You’re hurting me, Sam. You need to wake up.”

  He moaned and mumbled something that sounded like “angel”, but he didn’t release her hand. She didn’t want to do anything to hurt him, but she couldn’t take the pain much longer.

  Angeline pinched the skin between his shoulder and chest. Sam let go of her hand and sat up so fast, he knocked his head into hers. Angeline fell to the floor again, this time on her knees.

  “Angel?” He sounded confused and uncertain, scared even.

  “I’m here, Sam.” She leaned toward him and pressed her forehead against his.

  His breath came in hot gusts as if he’d been running. Both his face and his body were covered in sweat. The acrid odor made her nose wrinkle.

  “What happened?” he whispered.

  “I think you were having a bad dream, and I had to wake you up so I pinched you.” Her hand still throbbed from his crushing grip.

  “Did I hurt you?” He grabbed her sore hand and a cry of pain popped out of her mouth. “Oh, God, Angel, I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

  He sat up and ran his hands through his sweat-soaked hair. Angeline realized he was shaking so hard that his teeth were clacking together. She poured water from the pitcher into the basin and wrung out the rag. He closed his eyes as she wiped the sweat from his face and neck.

  “Let’s get you out of those sweaty sheets.” Angeline helped him to his feet and patiently walked him to the chair in the corner. He leaned on her the entire way.

  “My leg stiffens up when I sleep. It takes some time to get the kinks out.” He sat down with a heavy sigh and leaned back. Dressed in nothing but the bottom half of a union suit, he was attractive even at his lowest point. She kissed him softly.

  “Don’t worry, Sam. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

  He stared up at her in the dim light, his black eyes completely unreadable. “I love you, Angel.”

  “And I love you, but right now I don’t love your smell, so let me get busy.”

  Angeline put a quilt over him to keep him warm and stop the shivers. He looked like a little boy in the corner, lost and lonely. Her heart ached for whatever he’d been fighting in his dreams.

  She stripped the sheets and found another set in the trunk at the foot of the bed. Doing something made her calm down enough to be of use to Sam. Her hand still hurt, but she didn’t think there was any permanent damage.

  By the time she had the bed made, he’d stopped shaking and was just watching her work. She helped him to his feet, and this time his gait was a bit smoother.

  “Take off that union suit so you can wash up.”

  “Are you trying to get me naked?” His words were jovial, but the tone was anything but.

  “I don’t think I’d have to try too hard, now would I?” She stripped his body as she’d stripped his bed.

  As she washed him from head to foot, she started humming. It was a lullaby her mother had sung so very long ago. Angeline had been five when her mother had died, and she barely remembered anything about her. However, the song had stuck in her head.

  It seemed to soothe Sam, too. He allowed her to wash him without a peep. When she tucked him under the cool, clean sheets, he sighed.

  “Now you climb in here with me, and this will be just perfect.”

  She shook her head. “I need to wash up quickly, too.” After dumping the basin of water out the window, she used fresh water to wipe herself down. All of the work had made her sweaty and uncomfortable. She didn’t have another chemise to wear, so she slipped under the sheets as naked as he was.

  “I could definitely get used to this.” He pulled her close, and they spooned together.

  Angeline never remembered feeling so safe, so secure before. Sam’s body fit perfectly against hers, and there were no sexual overtones to them being nude. She was exhausted, and obviously, so was he, but she couldn’t help but ask him what had been spinning around in her mind.

  “What were you dreaming about?”

  “You don’t want to know,” he murmured against her neck.

  “Yes, I do. It was enough to knock me out of the bed, make you into a man I didn’t recognize, not to mention the sweats. I think if you talk about it, it might help.” She’d always felt better after telling Eliza of her troubles. Sharing burdens is what family did—and Sam was now her family.

  “I dream about the war mostly. I was there for two years, fighting for the Union in Maryland. It was horrible, men killing their brothers, acting like the animals we pretend not to be.” He shivered against her. “I nearly lost myself in that war, Angel. And unfortunately, I relive it in my dreams.”

  She pulled his arms tighter around her as if she could take on whatever demons haunted his nightmares and get rid of them once and for all. However, she knew it took time for pain to go away, especially the pain in the heart and soul.

  “Do you dream about something in particular? A battle maybe?”

  He sighed again, his breath gusting past her ear. “It was a battle. In Sharpsburg in September, eighteen sixty-two. I’d only been there a month when the battle began. It lasted three days in the middle of a cornfield, and even in a church. I’ve never seen so much blood before. I was almost up to my knees in bodies.” He made a noise that sounded like a sob.

  Angeline heart ached for him. “Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry.”

  “I survived, of course, but most of my battalion was wounded or killed. General Lee just kept pushing, but McClellan ended up standing his ground. So many people died those three days.” He pressed his forehead against her neck. “I killed my first man that day. He was barely old enough to shave, and I took his life.”

  Angeline flipped onto her other side so she could face him. She took his face in her hands and softly kissed him. His pain was palpable, coming off him in waves. He still suffered so much from the war and, obviously, this particular battle.

  “Have you ever talked to anyone about this before?”

  “No. I can’t.”

  Although her eyes felt like they had a cup of dirt in them, she propped herself up on her elbow. “Yes, you can and you will. You’ve got a festering sore inside you, Sam, and it’s eating you up in your dreams. If you never told anyone before, no wonder it’s bothering you ten years after it was over.”

  “Angel, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Too bad, you’re going to anyway. I refuse to marry a man that can knock me clean off the bed and nearly break my hand while he’s having nightmares that he refuses to talk about.”

  Sam was completely silent for a few moments. “I broke your hand?”

  “No, you didn’t, but it still hurts. That’s not how we need to live. If we’re going to start over, you have to show me your scars, and I don’t mean the ones on your body. I mean the ones inside your heart.” Angeline knew she was right; she just had to make him see reason.

  “I’m tired. I really don’t want to talk anymore.” He sounded almost a bit whiny. That was the final straw for Angeline.

  She got up out of bed and reached for her clothes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving. I won’t be in the same bed with you until you talk about this. It won’t be tonight.” She had her chemise on and was pulling on her petticoat when he fumbled out of bed.

  “Angel, please, don’t go. I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to put it into words.”

  He sat down on the edge of bed and leaned his elbows on his knees. “We were part of the left flank in the battalion,” he began.

  Angeline sat and listened to his story, ached with him, cried with him, and sympathized with him. His
tale was one of blood, honor, and sheer fortitude. She was proud of him, of the fact he’d survived to tell her about it.

  By the time he finished talking, they were back in the bed, naked and under the covers. She held him as he wept, as he’d done for her. When he finally drifted off to sleep with his arms wrapped around her, Angeline knew she’d chosen the right man as her husband.

  She’d never loved him more.

  Chapter Eight

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  Sam and Angeline walked to the restaurant in the sunlight, side by side, hands and fingers interlocked. He’d been craving peace for so long; he was surprised to find it in the guise of a young woman with more scars than he had. He hadn’t wanted to tell her anything about the battle at Sharpsburg. Hell, he hadn’t even wanted to think about it.

  She’d bullied him into confessing every single detail until he’d nearly vomited. Damn sure cried about it, too. Yet Angeline didn’t make him feel stupid about having emotions. She’d listened to him, made him purge every inch of it from inside him.

  For the first time in ten years, he’d slept soundly, and he’d never felt better. Angeline had taken a chance in the darkness of his bedroom, and he couldn’t be gladder she had. Sam felt as if their relationship had stepped up another level the night before, even deeper than when he’d asked her to marry him.

  They had bared their souls, and in doing so, became one. Sam gently held her hand, knowing he’d hurt her in his dream state, he never wanted to be responsible for causing her pain again.

  His father walked ahead of them, somewhat lucid and chipper that morning. It was as if the world had woken up in a good mood. Sam certainly had. It was the first of many mornings he would wake up with her beside him. He intended on having as many as he possibly could for the next fifty or sixty years.

  They were about to tell everyone at the Blue Plate that Angeline was leaving permanently. Sam fingered the ring in his pocket; the worn gold band had been a gift from his mother. She had put it in his palm and told him he would know the woman to wear it when he met her. He would put that ring on Angeline’s finger when they got married. Although he had no idea if it would fit her finger, something told Sam it was the perfect size.

  When they walked into the restaurant, Pieter rose from a table by the kitchen door, his gaze locked on their entwined hands. Anger was evident in his expression.

  “I hope you have a good reason for keeping Angeline from her bed all night.” Pieter’s frown could have turned iron into a molten mess. “You have ruined her.”

  “No need to worry, Pieter. She helped me with my father and with my, ah, wounds from yesterday.” Sam smiled at Angeline. “And she’s agreed to marry me.”

  The three waitresses were all in the restaurant serving various customers. At Sam’s pronouncement, Karen gasped and ran forward to hug Angeline. Alice simply stared at them with something that almost looked like wistfulness. Lettie shook her head, and in her gaze, Sam saw disapproval. He squeezed Angeline’s shoulder because he knew she held Lettie’s opinion in high regard. Hopefully, the older woman would support Angeline’s decision and not cause problems in their wedding or their marriage.

  When she wrapped her arm around his waist, he knew everything would be all right.

  “Marta!” Pieter called toward the kitchen door. “Come quickly.”

  Within seconds Marta came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth. “What is it? There’s no need to bellow.” She caught sight of Angeline. “Ah, girl, we were worried for you. What were you thinking staying out all night? We almost went to find Sheriff Booth.”

  “He says they’re going to be married.” Pieter’s frown had not lightened even a smidge. “Although he hasn’t asked my permission.”

  Sam watched Marta’s face as she walked toward them, her back straight and her spine stiff.

  “I love him, and he loves me. That’s all that’s important. I love you both, but if you don’t approve, I’m still going to marry him.” Angeline was a different girl, one he was proud to call his own.

  “Ah, this is good. I am so glad to hear this!” Marta walked forward with her arms outstretched. “Liebchen, all we want is for you to be happy, and you have found a good man for that.” She pulled Angeline into a hug, and everyone in the room felt the genuine affection between them.

  Pieter grunted and eyed Sam with a father’s intensity. “You will do right by her, or you answer to me.”

  Sam smiled and nodded, knowing the older man simply wanted to make sure Angeline was in good hands. He could only hope for such love from people like the Gundersons. Most folks didn’t get close enough to him to even care what he needed.

  “What’s happening, Sam?” Sam’s father walked up beside them. “Why is our angel crying?”

  Sam put his arm around his father’s shoulder. “Because she’s happy, Pa. We’re going to be married tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Marta exclaimed. “That cannot be. I must have more time to prepare. And we’ll have to close the restaurant for the afternoon to have a party to celebrate.” She let go of Angeline and beamed at her. “We cannot let her be married without a celebration. I will make strudel and a pie—oh, and some of that lovely pot roast with the rosemary.”

  “You don’t have to have a party or even cook for us, Marta. We just want to be married in a quiet ceremony with the preacher.” Angeline glanced back at Sam. “Or maybe at the lake.”

  Although they hadn’t discussed it, he agreed with her decision completely. The lake held a special place for both of them, and it was only fitting they join together forever on the shore. His mother would approve, and he had no doubt her spirit would be with them.

  “At the lake? That sounds lovely,” Karen piped in. “It’s a perfect time of year, too.”

  “Too many bugs, and it’ll likely rain.” Alice obviously didn’t approve of the location. “Maybe even muddy. Your dress will get dirty. Besides, you met here at The Blue Plate.”

  Angeline smiled at the young woman. “That’s very romantic, Alice.”

  “Muddy? You are a breath of sunshine.” Lettie made no qualms about being nice to the pretty young woman. “If you don’t want to be nice then keep your mouth closed.” She walked over to Angeline. “Can I talk to you alone?”

  Angeline looked at him, and he told her with his gaze he understood. “Of course. Let’s go into the kitchen.”

  Marta came toward him, and Sam prepared himself for a round of hugs and affection from the effusive German woman. She was nothing if not full of love for the people she cared about.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Lettie speared her with a probing look Angeline had been subject to more than once. “You are committing yourself to a man you’ve known less than two months. A man who beat your former beau in the street yesterday. A man who by all accounts is a half-breed Indian with a father who almost needs nappies. It’s a hard road you’re choosing here.”

  They stood in the back outside the restaurant, the shadows keeping the area chilly in the morning air. Angeline shivered a bit without the warmth of the sun on her. Everything her friend said was true, of course. They had made some hard decisions over the last year, but this one wasn’t a hard decision to make at all.

  She knew Lettie was being harsh because she cared about her. “I know it’s a hard road, but it’s my choice, my decision.” She took her friend’s hands. “I love him, and I can’t imagine not spending my life with him. It’s as if my soul was made to be with his. It sounds silly, but I believe it’s true.”

  “Don’t forget you already have a husband, and he’s not going to like sharing you.” Lettie backed away from Angeline, her brown gaze full of worry.

  “Josiah has no legal claim to me. The law only recognizes one wife to one husband.” Angeline’s voice grew stronger with each word. “He has no right to hurt me, hit me, or hunt me like an animal. I refuse to give up any chance of happiness because he might not like it.”

  Lettie’s eyes widened.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that before.”

  “Good, because I want to change. I want to be able to make my own choices and live the way I want to live.” Angeline didn’t even realize she was crying until Lettie handed her a handkerchief.

  “You deserve to.” Lettie’s voice was low and thick. “I envy your courage.”

  Angeline shook her head. “Don’t envy me. You are stronger than any person I’ve ever known, man or woman. I hope one day to be as strong as you.”

  “I can’t believe you think I’m strong.” Lettie scoffed. “I stayed with Josiah for five years. Five years! You showed me what it means to be strong.”

  The two women stared at each other, humbled by the qualities they saw beneath the surface, knowing no other person would ever understand. Angeline’s throat grew tight as she stared at her friend, her comrade, her confidante. The woman who had picked her up from the ground and dragged her to her feet, who had taught her how to survive. Lettie was so much more than she let everyone see. She loved her for that and more.

  “No matter what happens, I will always be there for you. You will always have a place in my life.” Angeline was surprised to find herself in Lettie’s embrace, feeling wetness on her cheeks that didn’t belong to her.

  Lettie leaned away as quickly as she had pulled Angeline into a hug. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat, seemingly embarrassed by the show of emotions. Lettie had grown such a hard shell around her heart, she rarely let anyone close to her, much less see her vulnerable.

  “I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but I do agree it’s your choice. You have the right to do what your heart tells you to.” Lettie hugged herself and stepped back.

  “Thank you. Now, will you be my maid of honor and stand beside me?” Angeline couldn’t imagine anyone but Lettie at her side when she made Sam her husband.

  “Are you sure? You know I don’t want you to marry him.”

  Angeline smiled. “I’m sure. You’re closer to me than anyone else. I’d be honored if you would be my maid of honor.”