Cold Mountain
Cold Mountain- the place where Inman called home, and the place where everything began as the war slowly ended.
Ada froze. The fear that settled in her heart was colder than any winter snow. She ran as fast as her legs allowed her on the icy path to Inman's side. Something was very wrong. He wasn't coming back. What was taking him so long?
Boom. There went the sound. Everything she had feared resulted in one, single sound that made her heart start to hammer.
"Inman?" She cried out loud, running toward the direction of the gunshot. She couldn't breathe. It was happening too quickly. It wasn't happening. For all she knew, this could all be a nightmare.
Ten feet. She had made it up the hill in seconds. Now she could see Inman's body sprawled on the ground, eyes closed.
Two feet. Ada wept, finally dropping next to her lover, placing her frigid hand on his chest.
There, in the very center, his heart was beating.
Ada smiled in relief. Inman was alive. She looked to where the blood was. Blood was protruding from the wound in his wrist. But from the looks of it wasn't a lethal blow. He would survive.
"Ada?" His rich, deep voice was intact but dazed from the loss of blood. "Don't you cry. I'm not gonna die, sweetheart. That ole bastard got me in the wrist, but it ain't that bad."
"Oh, thank God. Inman…"
"I killed 'em." A smile spread on his lips. "We're gonna be safe now. No Yankee bastard will ever come between us. They'll never come to Cold Mountain again…Never."
"Shhh…" Ada took him in her arms and laid his head down in her lap. She stroked his golden curls soothingly.
"The war's over Ada. I feel like talkin'. Oh, Lord, I want to talk."
Ada asked, "What do you want to say, Mr. Inman?"
"Since when do you call me 'Mr. Inman'? I'm tellin' ya, Ada, if you wanna be my wife then ya better start acting like it. Now that the war's over we're going to get married."
Ada smiled. "Yes, Inman."
"Good. So you're saying yes? That you'll live with me till we can't walk no more, for a hundred years? Good Lord, Ada, I love you. I'll build you a big house made of pine and cedar. We'll have flowers everywhere in the spring, fruit in the summer, acorns in the fall, snow in the winter…it'll be real pretty, Ada. But I think you'll always be the brightest, most beautiful thing than all of the seasons…"
Ada rocked him back and forth. "Sleep."
Inman closed his eyes, and fell into a deep, drunken sleep of happiness. In his dream he dreamt of Cold Mountain, his home. He dreamt of his journey, what he had risked to go back to Cold Mountain. He saw torrential pours pouring down onto the earth. Every dead soul was washed away, every ounce of evil and filth. He saw a river of crystal clear water, not bloodstained like the Battle of Gettysburg, but pure, holy water. The icy crystals from the mountains thawed and flowed into the rivers. It was spring again; it was only the beginning. He saw a house in those mountains, Ada waiting inside for him with supper. Inman was covered in sweat from working in the fields, and he was tired. His muscles ached. But Ada always made things better. He saw him and Ada, together, living life like the cycle of seasons all through eternity. In Cold Mountain, where his home was.