Chapter 2: Duty

They sat at her kitchen table over a small pot of tea and she shared with him how she passed the intervening years since they last met. He listened closely, filling in any unspoken parts. He knew well enough she wouldn't elaborate on any privation she had encountered. When she was done, he took her hand.

"Miss Isabella, I'm so sorry I did not seek you out sooner than I did. When I thought of you over these past years, I envisioned you being happily surrounded by your family; your husband, and, surely by now, a few children clinging to your skirts. In my wildest imaginings, I'd never could have believed you were alone. Don't you have family here 'bouts?"

"I do but they are caught up in their own affairs, as they should be. They have helped me as they could-my cousin Jacob, especially, but he has his own family and a business to see to. It's not been easy for anyone these days."

He nodded, understanding how people had a tendency to see to their own first before looking to the welfare of others. After all, wasn't that the reason of his tardiness?

"What about you, Mr. Cullen? What happened after you left me?"

He swallowed. It had been nine years since he last saw her-two years of brutal warfare, then seven years trying to recover from it. He found it easiest just to put it out of his mind and concentrate on other things but occasionally a thought, a sound, or a phrase would bring it back and he'd descend once again into hellish nightmares. That was a part of his life he tried his best not to revisit, but she was owed some sort of explanation, especially since she had done so much for him and he had only ever given so little.

"I left here in the early hours that morning, thinking only of your safety. I have to admit, Miss Isabella, it was hard leaving you so abruptly after all your kindnesses to me but I knew the longer I left it, the more difficult it would be for me to rejoin the army and the greater the chance of being discovered here."

"But your poor leg. Surely you couldn't have walked the whole way back to Virginia."

He smiled and shook his head as leaned back in his chair straightening out the limb in question. "I was fortunate to find a horse in the woods not far from here. Evidently, he had run off during the battle. He was a little gun shy, but I was able to coax him into carrying me." Edward left out the part where he had found the horse standing over a dead Union cavalryman, its former rider.

"So, the horse and I made our way south by riding cross-country and it wasn't a day later that we were intercepted by Confederate scouts guarding the rear of the retreat. Soon, I was standing in front of my commanding officer recounting my adventures."

"Was he unhappy with you? Surely he understood you couldn't help being separated from your company."

Edward shrugged. "He understood well enough what had happened to me and was glad that I had managed to catch back up. I spent the next two years riding the war on that old Yankee roan. He proved to be a good and faithful steed." He didn't tell her how, after Appomattox, the Roan was reappropriated by Union troops who noticed the US branded into its flank. Edward had to walk all the way back to his family. Fortunately, his home was a little over a hundred miles away. Some of his fellow Confederates had many hundreds of miles to walk. He was home in time to help with the late planting that year.

"So you made it through the rest of the war safely?"

He paused a bit before saying, "I did, thanks be." He wasn't going to mention the wounds that weren't visible.

"Thanks be to God, indeed. I prayed for you every night, Mr. Cullen."

"Then surely, it was your prayers that kept me out of harm's way. I can't imagine the Almighty would ever ignore your pleas." There was a glint in his eye, had he known it, which bespoke his care for the lady.

She sighed and said, "Alas, my prayers didn't keep my father safe. He had died of dysentery before you and I had even met."

"My sincere condolences, ma'am." How many times had he said that to others over the last few years? He thought about lost comrades and the burdens that now saddled his father. There were reparations, forced political representation, and punitive taxes, even to the point of losing the land one loved, the land one had originally fought for. The spoils of war it was called, and he found it was a bitter harvest.

"Where you very surprised to receive my letter?"

"Indeed, I was. I had long thought you'd forgotten me and I hoped you were happy and content."

"Forgotten you! I could never forget you, though I had only known you a short time." He could tell she was every bit as sincere as he remembered.

"But you've been happy and content?" he asked.

"Content enough. Happy enough; though, now I'm as giddy as a lark that you're here. I can hardly believe it! You will stay for a spell, won't you?"

"Perhaps you could use my help with the farm?

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, you're my guest. I couldn't ask a thing of you."

He reached over and again took her hand. "It would be my pleasure. It would be a small return for your aid to me when I was wounded."

"I don't want you to feel beholding to that. You helped me those four days as much as I ever did you."

"Surely, you saved my life, Miss Isabella."

"And you kept me sane. Without you, I'd have broken down for sure."

"But you could use a hand around here, and I'm fairly handy." He smiled. "I had been working on my father's farm after I returned home. I've gotten fairly used to stubborn plows and skittish cattle. I've learned to swing a hammer as well as a scythe. I do believe I would be useful to you."

Isabella impetuously lifted his hands to her lips then held them to her cheek. "This is a dream come to life. You're welcome to stay as long as you wish, sir, as long as your family won't miss you back in Virginia, that is."

For some reason there was a peculiar sensation in the middle of his chest and he swallowed. Her cheek was so soft. "My family…they're not so far away that I can't write to them. They knew from the day I came back from the war that I most likely wouldn't be staying."

"Why wouldn't you be staying? You loved your home. I well remember the stories you told me about it."

"That's all they are, now, Miss Isabella, nothing but stories."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes were big as saucers.

"My father had to sell Bel Aire to satisfy the tax liens on his property. They now live in Richmond. He is still practicing medicine and 'tis an easier trade in a city than in the countryside."

"Oh, Mr. Cullen, I grieve for you! That must have been a blow."

"There are worse." He shrugged having long ago accepted his unhappy fate.

"What have you been doing since the sale?"

"I hadn't quite figured that out. It took place this past spring and I've spent the past months settling that and helping my mother and father to move into their new home."

"And your sisters? Are they with your parents, too?"

"No. They are married and have their own households. They married soon after the war."

"That's happy news."

He nodded. "They are content but very busy. They don't live too far away from Richmond, so I have no worry about leaving my parents. It was time I found my place in the world."

"Do you think your place could be in Pennsylvania?" She immediately bit her lip as though she regretted saying too much.

"I don't know about Pennsylvania, but I do know about a sweet lady that lives there." He lifted her hand to his lips just as she had done his.

"It wouldn't be seemly for you to work here without some sort of recompense, and I'm afraid that I can't afford…" she found it difficult to finish the sentence. Her cheeks blazed in embarrassment. Truly, sometimes she barely had enough for herself but he didn't need to know that.

Edward shifted off his chair and knelt on the floor in front of her, still holding her hands in his.

"Miss Isabella, I mean to do right by you. I will stay and work this farm and stand by you as I should. I know I don't have much more to offer you than my labor and my name but all that I have, I give to you."

"I can't think of what you might mean." He could see the pulse hammering away at her throat and could only hope that she wouldn't be repulsed by his offer.

"I mean, Miss Swan, would you marry me?"

She gasped and all color left her face, "M-m-arry you? Are you sure that's what you want?"

He nodded his head and studied her face as though her eyes and mouth would tell him the state of her heart.

"Have I died and gone to heaven?" she asked, still in a daze.

"I sincerely hope you haven't for there's got to be better awaiting you in the great beyond than just my meager self," he said and pulled her closer to him. "This isn't a dream. I am asking for your hand. Will you say yes?"

"Y-y-yes!" She threw her arms about his neck and they spent a sweet few minutes celebrating with lips and arms and sighs.

When they once again became aware of their surroundings, Isabella was seated upon Edward's lap as he sat in the chair she'd vacated.

"When shall we marry?" she asked.

"As soon as may be, I'm thinking. We don't need to have the neighborhood concerned about your good name."

Thinking about how the people of Gettysburg would react if she stayed here alone with Edward caused a cold shiver to rise up her spine. "It wouldn't be fitting, I suppose."

"Then let us be fitting, ma'am. Is there anyone to look after your farm for a day or so?"

"I have no livestock, so other than locking the door, I doubt there'd be anything to look after for just a day or so."

"Then I propose that we travel to York, get a license there, and marry. We could be back in a day."

She studied him carefully. "Mr. Cullen, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Miss Swan, it has been my one thought since I read in your letter that you were a maid."

"Truly?" Her eyes sparkled in excitement.

"Truly," he echoed.


A few hours later, Edward and Isabella were both riding the hired horse into town. Together, they had prepared the farm for their departure and Bella was able to pack some necessities in a small carpet-bag. She changed out of her work clothes into her best dress—one she had made over from a dress her aunt had given her a few years back. She hoped Edward wouldn't be too displeased with her shabby appearance, but new clothes hadn't been a priority in recent years.

When Edward lifted Bella onto the blanket he had put behind the saddle, she found she was unsure of where to put her hands. Common sense dictated she simply hold on to Edward but she was too shy to try it, even though he was soon to be her husband. She gripped the back of his saddle but when he mounted in front of her he said, "Just put your arms 'round me. I don't want to lose you."

So, she carefully put her arms about Edward's waist. He clucked to the horse and they started off at a trot, which jostled Bella a little more than she had expected. She squeaked and held on tighter. Edward grinned and was surprised at the warm feeling that welled up in his chest. He threaded the reins through his right hand fingers and then, with a bemused expression, he clasped his left hand over both of hers as they rested against him. They rode like that most of the way into Gettysburg.