Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

body. My eyes grow full of tears so that the words swim before me. I pray you will allow me to rest and gather my emotions so that I may continue my report to you about our adventure South.

With great constancy and affection,

Daniel

My hands shook too as I held his letter. In the history lessons about the Civil War, I had read as a child, they emphasized the enthusiastic way Southern gentlemen rode off to war. I guess the wrenching decision to go was not discussed. Now, I could better understand why Emma might not have met Daniel at the Lone Oak. It would have been hard enough to say goodbye to her father. To say goodbye to the man she loved might have been more than she could bear.

 I looked out the window as the wind picked up and moved the leafy boughs in a slow, sorrowful dance. Each branch looked heavy as it nestled against others, content to stay close and just exist.  That’s what grief felt like to me.  Often, I wanted to sit, just sit, and not move. Too often.  But like the wind forced the branches to move, life and Daniel’s words roused me. I needed to quickly capture Daniel’s words in electronic forms before they faded away. I did not want to lose this letter.

Once I had saved Daniel’s letter on the computer and my gallery, I slipped it into the file where I knew his words would slowly fade away. He’d left me hanging at the end of his letter without finishing the story. Of course, I could wait patiently for his next piece of correspondence, but patience wasn’t my strong suit. I retrieved the inkwell and pen and began to write.

My Dear Daniel,

I was filled with sorrow as I read the words of your last letter. What torment you must have felt as you rode away from Waterwood. 

I do not believe that I would have had the strength and fortitude to do what you did. I admire your loyalty to my father so that he, in his pain, did not have to follow the path he had chosen alone.

I hope these meager words from me bring you some level of comfort and strength so that you may continue the tale of your journey.

I eagerly await your next missive.

                                               Emma

I placed my letter to the side so that the ink could dry. I wondered how the letter I wrote in this reality traveled to the ghostly world where Daniel existed. I'd never succeeded in finding my letters to him in or on the desk. Did my handwritten words fade away in his world the way his words did in mine?  Some of the blank sheets in the stack might have once held my words.

I looked out at the Lone Oak again. Seeing the area under its sheltering branches up close gave me an unsettled feeling. According to Daniel, it was a place of friendship that had grown into love and hope. Taking into account of what had happened recently, it was also a place of murder.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“With infinite sorrow and regret, I have to record the death of the colored woman Cassie. This is a sad bereavement to us, her death, and absence will be long felt.” February 13, 1863

The Willis Family Journals 1847-1951

Edited and Annotated by James Dawson

I sat in the leather chair by the plantation desk, staring out the window at the Lone Oak. It was too early for dinner. I didn't feel like a nap. My eyes were too tired to do any more reading. I was relieved to hear two beeps of TJ's truck horn followed a few moments later by his voice calling my name softly.

“I’m here in the den,” I sang out. “When he came down the hall, I asked, “Want a cup of coffee?” Then I remembered TJ’s beautiful almost-white Lab. “Oh, what about Ghost? Is he with you?”

“Always. He’s in the truck. I must admit I brought him in last night while you were sleeping. He stayed in the kitchen.”

“Bring him in now. He can’t stay out there while we talk.”

TJ frowned.  “Are you sure? He’s a big dog.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Then I had a thought. “But when I’m moving around…”

“I’ll be sure he stays out of your way. Thanks.”

I was relieved when Ghost came into the room slowly. He took his time, checking out his surroundings, instead of bounding in and jumping on me like an old boyfriend’s dog always did.

“Manners,” TJ intoned.

Ghost sat at my feet and extended a paw in greeting. Though we had spent time in the truck together, I had no idea he was so sensitive and well-trained.

TJ pointed to a corner. “Go and stay.”

Immediately, Ghost took up his position. Oh, to have such a remarkable companion. I'd never had time for a pet. Maybe now…?

"Okay, it's coffee time," TJ announced and I followed man and his dog into the kitchen.

He whistled softly as he went about the preparations. Soon, a rich aroma filled the room. We went through the normal updates about how we'd each spent our day. For some reason, I conveniently forgot to tell him about Stephani's visit and our trip to the Lone Oak. I wasn't sure what I thought about the girl. There was something about Stephani that wasn't ringing true or maybe it was my imagination. I wanted to make my own decision about her first. Right now, I wanted to know about his connection to Waterwood.

We sat down with steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of