The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) by Ginny Dye

Author:Ginny Dye [Dye, Ginny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A Voice In The World Publishing
Published: 2013-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

The sun had set, but Louisa refused to leave the porch. Her one concession had been to walk inside and pick up a thick quilt along with a pitcher of water. She had done nothing but rock and croon to her baby since the soldiers had left, letting the tears that streamed down her face wash away the bitterness as she stared at the burned-out remnants of their farm. It took every bit of energy to focus on gratitude that their house was standing and the baby was unharmed.

Every sound had her straining forward in her chair as she prayed Perry would come home. She had tried with very little success to block out images of him hurt and wounded in the woods, attacked before he ever reached the safety of the cave. She’d also had very little success blocking out images of what her life would be like without him.

All she could do was rock and croon, her hand involuntarily stroking her stomach with maternal instinct, trying to give as much comfort to the baby as the baby was giving to her. Louisa wrapped the blanket more tightly around her swollen body and tried to breathe evenly. “Perry,” she whispered, for what must have been the hundredth time.

A sudden rustle in the woods had her jerking forward, holding her breath as the baby kicked in protest. Perry materialized next to the porch. “Louisa?” he asked softly.

“They’re gone,” she cried, jumping up and hurrying down the steps to throw herself into her husband’s arms. “They’re gone!” The tears flowed freely again. “You’re safe. Thank God, you’re safe!”

Perry gathered her close and stroked her hair until her breathing became more even and the tears stopped flowing. “It’s okay,” he murmured over and over. “Everything is okay.”

Louisa finally took a deep breath and pulled back in his arms to look up at him. “The livestock? The wagon?”

“Everything is safe,” he assured her. “I left them there so I could come back to check on the farm. I’ll get them tomorrow.” His jaw clenched with fury as he looked past her at the burned-out hulks of their farm buildings.

Louisa gripped his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “We still have each other. We still have our home. We can rebuild everything else in time.”

“Our food?” Perry asked.

Louisa’s laugh rang out through the night until she doubled over. She glanced up at Perry’s concerned face and started laughing all over again. “Oh, Perry,” she gasped, “you should have seen me. I do believe I may take up acting.”

She relayed her conversation with the lieutenant until both of them were holding their sides in laughter. “So, yes, Mr. Appleton,” she said demurely, batting her lashes at him, “our food is just fine. The lieutenant didn’t want to take the only food supply from the poor fragile widow with child.”

“The poor man,” Perry finally said, once his laughter had died down. “He didn’t stand a chance against you.”

“That would be correct,” Louisa said primly.

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