A Good Place to Heal (Angel Falls #2)

CHAPTER 1

Near the Rocky Mountains

It seemed to Travis Buchanan that he had been on the stagecoach forever.

It was bumpy, dusty, and seemed to be filled with more flies than he could stand, and yet it was better than being shot at in the War Between the States for the last four years.

Travis had been injured before, but he had been operated on and sent back into the war to fight…

this time, his injury was just too severe to go back to the front lines to fight.

He needed to go home to recover. Nothing could make Travis happier.

He just wished he could get there quicker and without all the bumps that kept reminding him about his injury.

He could also do without the passengers that were crowded into the stagecoach with him.

One was a salesman who kept trying to engage them all into a conversation in which they would buy some of his trinkets in his briefcase, ensuring them that he had more in his trunk on top of the stagecoach.

One was a prima dona who kept a handkerchief over her nose to keep the dust from ever entering that turned up appendage on what would have been pretty if her face wouldn’t have been always in a frown at the horrid conditions she was forced to endure.

The last people on the stagecoach were a reasonably nice woman with her two little children.

But they were tired of riding in the stagecoach and had turned whiney and finally fallen asleep.

Needless to say, the coach was crowded with six occupants in it, including the prima dona’s large purse and the salesman’s briefcase.

The mother had a bag filled with food for her children to eat and a bottle of water for them to drink, unfortunately it also made them want to go to the bathroom.

Travis was glad when they fell asleep. He wished he could fall asleep, too, but the pain in his leg hurt too much to let him sleep.

It throbbed like it had a heart of its own.

Of course, even when he slept he had too many dreams or nightmares of the battles he had been in and the men he had watched die with cannon fire, gatling guns, dynamite thrown at them, and even when they were in the swamps of Louisiana, the gators were more a threat than the Confederate soldiers were.

There he had caught malaria from the huge mosquitos, and it was worse than being shot.

You cooked during the day and froze at night from the night sweats and about sweat to death by shivering so much.

It seemed to last forever before it was out of his system.

He couldn’t believe that he had signed up to fight with so much optimism to free the slaves and save the union…

now he just wanted the war to end. It was hard to shoot at men who looked just like he was only wearing a different colored uniform or no uniform at all.

He hated it even worse when they destroyed homes with the cannon fire.

Men went to fight in war; he didn’t want it to effect women and children.

But it did. He knew that they were suffering without their husbands making a living for them and helping them make a home for their families.

He was so thankful that Tate had stayed home with his family.

He knew that his wife hadn’t been feeling too well when he left, he sure hoped she was feeling better and all was well with them now.

He could imagine how big those three kids were getting after four years at war.

Why Cassie had just been a baby when he left, she would be about four when he came home!

She wouldn’t even remember him. Chris would be about seven and Cam about six.

He wondered if they would remember their Uncle Travis.

He remembered throwing them up in the air and hearing them laugh.

It had been a long time since he had heard anyone laugh.

He looked out the window. He loved looking at the Rocky Mountains.

They loomed closer and closer. He loved them.

He never wanted to cross them, they were way too dangerous for him, but they represented freedom to him and the right to do what he wanted in his life…

the right to be free. He just felt guilty going home when others were still fighting.

He leaned back in the seat of the stagecoach and tried to get comfortable.

In doing so, he dared to sit on the skirt of the prima dona.

She elbowed him in his side with her parasol.

He had taken some bullets in the side when his leg was hit. He groaned.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t sit on my skirts. Though, I’ll never get the wrinkles out of the material as it is. You’re so big you take up more of the seat than you should anyway.” She told him and tried to get more room for herself.

Travis was still trying to get his breath back from her elbow in his injury in his side.

The young mother across from him noticed the whiteness around his mouth.

“I believe that our soldier was injured where you elbowed him in his side along with his leg. You hurt him again. I think his injury is more important than getting wrinkles in your skirt. You might think about that in the future.” She told the prima dona softly.

“Humph! How was I to know that he was injured in his side? He didn’t say a word about it!

I still say he takes up more room than he should, and who are you to say what I do or don’t do to him.

Maybe you should just butt out of it!” She told her snippily.

It was clear that she felt she was better than the housewife with two little boys.

Travis felt he had to speak up. “Woman, you do try my patience. You think your dress is more important than my injuries? It’s ludicrous.

Men are dying on the battlefield. Your dress is nothing.

Thank you for speaking up for my injury, ma’am.

It’s nothing to the men who are going home without an arm, or leg, or their eyesight.

Or the brave men who aren’t going home at all.

I’m lucky to be going home to recuperate.

They’ve patched me up before and sent me back to fight…

this time, they felt my injuries were too severe to return to the battlefield.

Part of my side was blown away, and part of my leg has to grow back its muscle from a cannon that exploded too close to escape the blast. I’ll recover, but it will take a long time to get back to what I was before the war.

I will warn you that if you nudge me with that parasol again, I will break it over my knee and throw it out the window.

Do I make myself clear?” Travis said to a surprised prima dona.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She told him.

“Try me and see. Right now, my side burns like fire from that dad blasted parasol, and it will for quite some time. Are the wrinkles in your skirt all that important?” Travis asked her again.

The prima dona shrugged her shoulders, maybe they weren’t as important as she thought.

She pulled them away from the soldier and tried to get as small as she could into the corner of the stagecoach.

She certainly didn’t want anything to do with the surly soldier.

Travis looked at her and at the mother across the seats.

He nodded at the mother of the two boys.

She smiled back at him. “Appreciate your concern, ma’am. ”

“I appreciate your going to war for us. Too many men paid others to fight in their place. I find that cowardly. I know that some had a good reason why they didn’t go to war, but others did not.

My husband went to war and did his duty.

Unfortunately, he will not be returning.

He died at Gettysburg. We’re going to be joining my brother in Angel Falls.

He owns a livery there. He recently got married and they had a little boy.

Henry is so proud of that baby, he is about to bust his buttons on his shirts.

His new wife is a nurse at the clinic in town.

I’m going to watch the baby for them, so she can work part-time at the clinic.

They have even found us a place to live in town not too far from them.

My name is Angie…Angie Howard. My boys are William…

Will, really, and Robert, Bobby. They’re five and three. ”

“It’s nice to meet you, Angie. My name is Captain Travis Buchanan.

Although I’m not a Captain anymore. My brother owns a mercantile in town.

We ran it together. Tate’s wife was sick.

He has three little kids. He stayed to take care of his wife and three kids, and I went to war.

Tate is no coward, nor did he pay someone to take his place in the war.

We just thought his place was with his sick wife and kids.

I went for both of us. I’m glad I’m coming home to help him in the store.

I sent home some letters but didn’t get any the way the mail was.

I have no idea of what I’m coming home, too.

It’s just good to be going home to Angel Falls.

I keep looking at the Rocky Mountains, I’ve always loved those mountains, I’d never cross them, but they sure are majestic.

” Travis told her and ignored the other two in the coach.

“Well, I think the war is disgraceful. It’s taken the prime men in our communities and blown them up and killed the rest.” The prima dona told them.

“My name is Lydia Hatcher. I used to live in New Orleans in Louisiana. We had the most beautiful ballrooms and parties, but you Yankees came and took over. Now, we have to bow down and pay taxes on everything. I want this war to be over in the worst way. I am going to my aunt to work in her store in Angel Falls, too. She is running a resale store, whatever that is. My parents died when the Yankees came to New Orleans, and I am an orphan with nowhere to go. I hate you blue bellies!” Lydia told him with feeling.

“How old are you Lydia?” Angie asked her quietly.

“You never ask a lady how old she is, surely you know that!” Lydia told her in rebuke at her question.

“Maybe so, but you look old enough to work for your keep, not live off your aunt. If you were the age of my boys, you would be an orphan, not if you were over the age of sixteen. I’d say you were old enough to start working for your keep.

I hope your aunt puts you to work in her resale store and makes you work to have a roof over your head and to put food in your mouth.

It’s time somebody did.” Angie told her matter of factly.

“Why would she do that? My mother and father never did…they told me that I’m to be taken care of until I get married to a rich man, and then he will take care of me.” Lydia told her and turned her head away from the common woman sitting across from her.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but there aren’t any rich men living in Angel Falls.” Travis told her and saw her about twist her head off her neck to see him again.

“You must be mistaken. Surely in a town as large as Angel Falls, there have to be some well-to-do men who would love to have me marry them! I’m beautiful, I can play the spinet, I can run a household of servants, and I can carry on a conversation…

what more could he possibly want?” Lydia asked the two in front of her.

“The men in Angel Falls don’t have servants or slaves to do the work.

The women they marry cook, clean, wash clothes, and a lot of them have gardens that they take care of.

They also watch over their children. Many of them also help their husbands with their businesses.

I’m sure that Henry’s wife helps him in the livery when she can.

I know that Tate’s wife helped him in the mercantile when she could.

Men and women work together in their marriages to help each other out.

” Travis told her and saw the disbelief in her face.

“I don’t know how to cook or clean, and I will never wash someone’s dirty clothes…it’s so demeaning. Don’t they have nannies to watch their children?” Lydia asked them in a small voice.

“No, they don’t. I love watching my children myself. I would miss seeing their first tooth, first step, and seeing them call for Mama when they wanted something. Being a mother is a wonderful feeling; I wouldn’t give it up for anything.” Angie told her quietly.

Lydia couldn’t believe it. She was ready to go back to New Orleans, but she couldn’t. She had no money and nowhere to go!