February 1, 1862<
My dearest Logan,

Your last letter arrived yesterday and I could scarcely wait to respond. I miss you so and dream about you every moment of every day. I have recently received a telegram from Anya, who is actually in Virginia working in a general store in a small town. She could not tell me where, but from the sound of it I believe she is relatively close to you. I only wish that she could send me word of your condition because I long to hear from someone else that you are alive and well in a state so far away.

Since you have decided that your own need to brag and dream of our child should outweigh the superstitions of our society, I too will talk about the baby. He or she –why you think it is a daughter I do not know –has been moving incessantly and seems to be very anxious to see the world. I wonder who he or she will be like most: you or myself. Either way, I am sure this child is going to be the most stubborn, mule-headed being on this earth.

I long for your arms, Logan. I miss how safe I felt sleeping against you and the way your hand rested against the curve of my stomach. I simply feel empty without you. I do not know how I will be able to spend so long without you here.

February 14, 1862
Dearest Sapphire,

Yesterday was my twentieth birthday and the first I have ever spent without my family and away from home. It is odd; I do not feel any older or any wiser and the lack of gifts and parties did not bother me at all. The only thing I longed for last night was you and the sweetest kiss from your lips. Even the letter from my family, complete with a strange little sketch from sister Tessa, could not cheer me the way thoughts of you do.

Today, of course, is St. Valentine’s Day. What should be one of the most romantic days of the year is, of course, lonely and empty. I understand what you meant in your letter when you said you miss my arms. I miss holding your soft body against mine and feeling our child move within you. I miss seeing you when I first open my eyes and kissing you just before I fall asleep. I love you, Sapphire, and I only hope you know how much.

I shall see you in my dreams, darling. Be well.

March 4, 1862
Logan,

I am scrawling this from my bed where my parents insist I stay from now until I finally have our child. Should our calculations be even near correct, I have five or so weeks to be trapped in this blasted bed. The only thing that was able to cheer me was the arrival of your letter, but I honestly did not know what to say after reading about your birthday. It is silly, but I realized that until that moment I did not even know your birthday was the thirteenth of February. I wish you would have told me sooner for then I could have sent you something special for that day. Perhaps another pair of socks or this time a scarf? I could not have messed up something that must be made straight, could I?

I shall be writing you many little notes, though I am not sure how many I will actually send. As opposed to before where I was allowed to wander the house, Mother and Father have asked one of the maids to stay near my room and be sure I am in bed. Mother sits in this room many a day just watching and reading to me from this book or that. She has even asked Mary-Anna to guard me as if I would not be able to stay in bed on my own. I can see that smirk, Logan Fitzgerald! I could stay in bed on my own! Well, fine. I could attempt to even if I failed miserably. I cannot help my need to be mobile.

I will not bother you with the news that I am bored silly and missing you. I just want to have this baby, bring you home and be the family we are. I love you. Please be safe.

Longing for freedom,
Sapphire

March 24, 1862
Sapphire,

I am sorry that it has taken me so long to reply. As of now, you are probably halfway through the confinement period and are anxiously awaiting the birth of our child. I can admit that I too am quite excited about the thought that our baby is to be born soon. Did you not say before I left that you were due around your birthday in April? Perhaps you and our child shall share the same one.

We have been training day and night and there is talk around camp that we are to be part of a campaign in this area. I doubt it, however, as I have not seen hide or hair of a rebel since before I returned home. I suppose only time will tell, but know that I am quite safe here.

Off to train once more before sleep. I adore you, darling, and send you my thoughts and prayers.

Sapphire reread the words he had written her, tracing the intricate inked letters that were delicately printed across the page. In the months that Logan had been gone his handwriting had been one of two connections she had to him. The other was the child that lay in her womb waiting to make a grand entrance into the world. Even Sapphire was anxious to finally have her first child with Logan in her arms.

Logan’s most recent letter had arrived in early April and Sapphire had immediately taken it to her beloved window seat to read. Her mother, of course, had scolded her for leaving bed, but Sapphire just couldn’t seem to sit still. Outside the trees were blooming and flowers were sprouting after the cold, snow-filled winter faded into the somewhat rainy spring. This was her favorite season when everything returned after months of sleep. It was a time of rebirth, a time when everything was fresh and new. When they had lived in Boston, Sapphire would use the springtime to walk along the Charles and feed the returning ducks that would spend the summer in the timid waters of Boston. The prior year at this time they had arrived in Harmony and Sapphire had used the spring weather to better acquaint herself with her new home. It was hard to believe that it was almost one year since her first meeting with April.

Resting back against her pillows, Sapphire folded the note she had read for the umpteenth time and stuck it with the others in the drawer of her nightstand. She withdrew a photograph they had posed for at the request of her father. They were looking at each other, their faces glowing, as the cameraman patiently saved that memory for them. It was taken on New Year’s Eve; just before Sapphire and Logan had snuck away from the party her parents were hosting and headed for their room to celebrate privately. Clutching the photograph to her chest, Sapphire closed her blue eyes and tried to imagine Logan. Instead, she was flooded with the memory of his leaving.

Logan packed the last item, the picture of his bride, into his pack and looked around the room. Sapphire stood by the door, a handkerchief held tightly in her hand as her tears rolled swiftly and silently down her pale cheeks. Logan wanted to spare her of this moment. He had contemplated leaving while she slept, much as he did on their wedding night, but he had to say goodbye to his wife and child, even if the latter had no idea he was leaving. Turning towards her, he tried to hide the pain he was in but the moment he began to speak it became painfully obvious that even he was hurting.

“I wish I did not have to go,” he admitted, nearing her.

Sapphire looked away, unable to meet his knowing brown eyes. “You do not have to leave,” she whispered, conscious of the fact that their fathers could easily have Logan released from the war. “Our fathers…”

“Neither of us would be happy if I stayed behind, Sapphire. We would both know that I was coward to turn my back on my country when it needed me so,” he sighed. “I may not be a soldier in the eyes of my family, but I am in the eyes of my country. I wish you supported me.”

“I wish I could support you more, Logan,” she admitted. “I am so proud of you, but with the baby coming I can hardly give you my blessing to go back there and face death.”

“I promise to return,” he lifted her chin gently, looking into her eyes. “I will not let anything keep me from returning to you safely.”

“You have no control of that,” she told him, sniffling. “I love you, Logan.”

“And I you, Sapphire,” he caressed her cheek. “You are truly my gem,” he brushed a kiss against her lips. “Nothing is going to take me away from you, Sapphire, I swear to you I shall finish my service and return to you. Then we will know a life together.”

She could no longer speak, unable to face her fears. “When will you be home again?”

“Most likely not until next Christmas,” he replied. “Though I may be lucky enough to find some leave time sooner. I shall let you know.”

“A year,” she was despondent. “You shall miss your train,” she stated, her voice void of any emotion.

“I shall write you as often as possible,” he kissed her again, lifting his pack from the floor. “Goodbye Sapphire, my love.”

“Do not say goodbye,” she begged him. “Please, take back your goodbye, Logan. Goodbye is so final, so absolute.”

“What shall I say instead?” he asked.

Looking at him with tear glazed blue eyes, she responded. “Just kiss me so I can remember it Logan and promise to love me always. Make it seem as if you shall return shortly.”

Taking her into his arms, Logan kissed her deeply, completely, his soul conveying what words could not. When they parted, he whispered, “Will you remember that, Sapphire? Will you allow that kiss to remind you of our love?”

She nodded, resting her forehead against his. “I shall.”

“Then I will return before you even have time to miss me, darling, and I shall remember that kiss until I come to claim another.” Drawing back, Logan quickly walked away, descending the stairs and heading for the door.

Sapphire rushed to the head of the staircase, crying out as the door shut behind her husband. “Logan!” she cried, sending her mother rushing from another room to her daughter. Katrina took Sapphire into her arms and held her shaking body. “Logan,” she sobbed, salty tears wetting her mother’s clothing. “God protect my husband, please.”

“Ouch! Why you,” Sapphire grumbled, rubbing the sides of her stomach. She had become used to the on again off again pains; after all they seemed to happen all the time. These, however, were stronger than the others. “Mmm,” she moaned.

Katrina looked up form her book, lowering the novel to her lap and curiously eyeing her daughter. “Sapphire? Is everything well darling?”

Sapphire released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, whimpering as the air hissed past her teeth. Her stomach hardened tightly and she groaned, clenching the bed sheets around her stomach. “Actually,” she gritted out. “I believe the baby is coming.”

“What?” Katrina flew off her chair, the hardback book falling to the floor with a thud. “Now? You are having the baby now?”

“YES!” Sapphire yelled, rolling her eyes as the contraction subsided. “Mother, I love you but if I have to be the level-headed one right now we are both going to have a serious problem.”

Katrina took a deep calming breath and rushed out of the room. Minutes later, Anya, who had been walking by, poked her head in. She smiled at her dear friend and walked towards the bed. “Your mother is running around like a chicken with her head cut off. She is having the staff prepare the birthing room in the basement.”

“There is something terribly wrong with sentencing a pregnant woman to the damp basement so the men cannot hear her scream,” Sapphire mumbled, feeling the start of another contraction. “I miss Logan,” she panted.

Anya poured some water into the basin beside Sapphire’s bed, wetting a rag and wringing it out. She used the moistened cloth to cool Sapphire’s flushed face. “I am sure Logan is doing well in Virginia.”

“Have you,” Sapphire held her breath a moment trying to ward off the pain, “heard from your contacts there yet?”

“No,” Anya lied. She had already started receiving letters and telegrams learning of a campaign to begin in Yorktown. It wasn’t a secret to her that Logan was located there and could very well be part of the military action that was to occur. For Sapphire’s sanity and health, she thought it best to keep the information to herself.

Katrina returned. “Anya, I need you to help me bring Sapphire down to the birthing room. The doctor is on his way and Mary-Anna is too young to be there.”

Anya just shrugged her response. She couldn’t tell her host no.

With Anya and Katrina’s help, Sapphire was taken down two flights of stairs to the cold, damp basement of the Crane mansion. The floor there was made of rotting wood and every sound echoed against the rock walls, though it would keep the noise from rising to the floors above. The room had no door, as no one besides the doctor and the women of the household were expected to even be on the floor as Sapphire had her child. The rooms were cold, helping to keep her warming skin cool and clammy, and it was dark. Katrina had asked the maids to light all the lamps and candles the dark room held. Climbing onto the chilly bed, Sapphire sighed and sunk into the pillows.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Katrina asked, sitting on the bed beside her daughter.

Sapphire grabbed her mother’s hand as yet another contraction began. “I am blissful,” she growled out, her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw popped. Tears rolled down Sapphire’s cheeks and Anya quickly rose from the bed.

“I can see I am not needed here,” she brushed a kiss to her friend’s head and then disappeared from the room.

“Coward!” Sapphire screamed to her friend as the contraction continued. “Mother,” she whimpered. “I want my husband.”

“Should he have been here he would merely be with your father upstairs smoking cigars and awaiting news on the child. You know that.”

“I do not care,” Sapphire pouted, falling backwards as the contraction ended. “I am frightened, Mother.”

“Having a child is natural, darling,” Katrina wiped the sweat from her daughter’s brow. “Women have been doing it since the beginning of time. Nothing shall go wrong.”

“Famous last words,” Sapphire sniffled, closing her eyes and picturing her husband. She had to be strong for him and bare him the most beautiful child in the world. Using thoughts of him as her strength, Sapphire prepared herself for the pain she was to bear.

Nineteen: that was the number of years in Logan’s life before he met his wife. However, it was also the number of hours Sapphire Fitzgerald had been in labor. By the late evening of the next day, Sapphire was in such pain she begged the doctor to use everything in his medical expertise to remove the child. Of course, it was no surprise to Katrina that Sapphire’s first born should take hours and hours to enter the world. Sapphire herself had been a twenty-six hour labor before Katrina was free of her first born. Given the stubborn nature of both parents, Katrina expected Sapphire to be in for a long one.

“GET IT OUT!!!” Sapphire screamed, pulling the doctor forward by his tie and looking deep into his frightened hazel eyes. “If you do not remove this child from me this instant,” she snarled, “I shall rip you apart limb from limb and do it myself!”

“M-Mrs. F-Fitzgerald,” he stuttered, trying to release her grip from his tie, which was starting to cut off his oxygen. “I cannot do anything but let nature take its course,” he pulled backwards just as she let go, falling to his behind and looking fearfully up at her mother. The man was young, straight from the medical school in Boston and training under the retiring Dr. Phillips of Harmony. His unruly brown mop of hair was damp from Sapphire throwing a towel at him early and his clothing was disheveled.

Sapphire tossed her head from side to side as she felt a gush of fluid flow from between her legs. Finally her water had broken, which meant it wouldn’t be much longer before her child decided to finally enter the world. Panic struck as she realized that she was going to be a mother.

Taking his position, the doctor once again examined Sapphire and decided it was time. The faster he helped her through this, the better. “Mrs. Crane, I shall need your assistance now,” he motioned to the head of the bed. “It is time to welcome your grandchild.”

Settling on the bed beside her sweat-drenched daughter, Katrina put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and helped her sit up. “It will not be much longer, Sapphire darling. You just need to bear down when the doctor gives you the signal.”

“I do not know if I can,” the tired girl sobbed, her head falling against Katrina’s shoulder. “Threatening him sapped the last of my strength.”

Katrina chuckled, kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “Sapphire Fitzgerald, you will cooperate now,” her mother insisted. “You have never quit before. Why begin to do so now?”

Her mother had a point. Sapphire was never one to give up, especially when things became difficult. Nodding, she looked at the doctor awaiting his signal. With a simple shake of his head he told Sapphire to begin and she did, pushing with all of her might. “Oh God!” she squealed in pain.

“I can see the head!” the doctor cheered her on.

“Good for you!” Sapphire snapped at him, continuing to bear down and force her child from her womb. “Would you like a medal?”

“Sapphire!” her mother smirked, loving her daughter’s boisterousness even now. There was no one quite like Sapphire; she was one in a million.

“Do not Sapphire me,” she demanded of her mother as she felt her child slowly begin to slip free. “Blasted baby.”

“Keep pushing!” the doctor cried dumbly, guiding the baby to the bed.

“Do not tell me what to do!” She bore down, releasing one long scream of pain as the child finally slid from her body.

The doctor lifted Sapphire’s child by the feet, smacking its backside. The frustrated newborn did not like such a welcome and let the entire room know by wailing loudly. Sapphire was crying as the doctor smiled at her, turning the baby gently and placing it in her arms. “You have a daughter.”

Sapphire sobbed, brushing her fingers over the gooey skin of her newborn daughter. “Oh she is so beautiful. Have you ever seen a baby so beautiful?” the tired woman asked her mother.

Katrina shook her head, hugging her daughter gently. “I am so proud of you, Sapphire. You have done a wonderful job bringing this little one into the world. Now you must give her a good Christian name.”

Sapphire watched the squirming, now quieted, child in her arms. The baby clung to Sapphire’s damp nightgown and cooed, sounding like a dove. “Trista,” Sapphire told her mother. “The baby’s name is Trista.”

“Trista?” Katrina asked. “Why?”

Sapphire shrugged. “It just is.”

It took nearly a week for Sapphire to finally be able to stand up without crying and she was determined to finally write her husband and let him know that their child had decided she wanted out. She also intended to tell him they wouldn’t be having any more children. There was no way she intended to go through that again anytime soon. He was lucky that he was so far away at the moment; Sapphire was sure she would have made him sleep in the yard.

Peeking in for a moment on her daughter, Sapphire watched little Trista sleep soundly, sucking on her tiny pink fist. The baby was so special to her and Sapphire loved spending time just rocking her small girl in her arms. From what she could tell, Trista was going to have the same blue eyes as her mother but her father’s dark black hair.

Shuffling over to her desk, Sapphire began to ruffle through some papers looking for a blank page on which she could pen her letter to Logan. She nearly knocked over a bottle of ink in her search, which caused her eyes to shift to the left where a stack of folded notes lay. Confused as to why these documents were on her writing desk, Sapphire opened them and skimmed the information. They were letters to Anya, coded like the ones she once carried in the south, detailing how the confederate Army had spread out to make themselves look larger during the campaign in the peninsula of Virginia. The battle was taking place in Yorktown and was due to continue until someone won the area. It began on the fifth of April and showed no sign of ending soon. The author predicted the battle to continue into May.

Sapphire quickly returned the letter to the stack, falling into the chair in front of the desk with tears rolling down her cheek. Logan was in danger; she could feel it. Rushing to her closet, she grabbed a small pack and stuffed some things for herself and the baby inside. Lifting Trista from her bed, Sapphire crept down the servant’s passage and out the back door of the mansion towards the train station.

“I promise you, darling, we’re going to find your father. We’re going to bring him home,” she whispered to the baby as she rushed away from the house. Sapphire felt her heart constrict and closed her eyes for a second. She knew she had to hurry or else she might not make it in time.

Chapter Fourteen

The sound of blasting riffles and the scent of gun smoke had long since faded away as Sapphire’s train pulled into the station at Yorktown, Virginia. The journey from Harmony to Yorktown had taken seven long days of day and night travel. Still sore from giving birth to Trista, Sapphire hoped to rest after the birth of her daughter. For the six days before she left, her mother and the nursemaid had helped with the baby, though Sapphire spent the most time with her daughter. It wasn’t until the first day of travel that Sapphire realized how little “most” of the time was. Trista was in need of food and clean diapers and Sapphire found herself washing diapers when the train stopped for new passengers and drying them on the seat across from her in the compartment. Women from other compartments often peeked in and offered some words of advice for the young mother traveling alone and older gentlemen would often ask her to keep the babe quiet, as if she could. Trista had the uncanny habit of crying just as her mother started to drift asleep and that would keep Sapphire from getting any rest. For her week aboard the train, Sapphire had slept little, eaten less and watched the countryside blur by as she reached the greenery of the south and prayed for the life of her husband.

But now, at the last station she would stop at during this trip, Sapphire found herself weary and in no rush to leave the warmth of her compartment bed. Outside, dusk had already descended on the town and Sapphire still had quite a walk ahead of her before she would reach the home of Dr. Deland, who had trained under one of her father’s closest personal friends in Boston and relocated to Yorktown before the war had began. He still kept close contract with Arden Crane; after all, the man had helped finance his education. Sapphire knew she had to bring him along in her search for Logan, she could sense that her husband had been injured.

With a yawn, Sapphire rose, gathering her travel bag in one arm and her daughter in the other. Finally, the motion of the train had lulled Trista to sleep and it looked as though she was good for quite a while. It would give Sapphire time to walk to the doctor’s home and office, which was located on the main street of town near the courtyard of the church. There, she hoped to find the man and his wife willing to assist her in the more dangerous part of her journey: a trip to the battlefield. If not, she was fully capable of using her powers of persuasion on Dr. Deland and should all else fail she would just have to use her name to influence the General into seeking help for her husband. Finally, being a Crane had its perks.

From the looks of the town, one couldn’t believe that there was a war taking place in the backyard of the town. As was normal for suppertime, Sapphire found most of Yorktown silent and dimly lit. As she walked by shopkeepers’ buildings, she saw them closing drapes and packing away outdoor supplies. Off in the distance, a bell rang signaling men that dinner was being served. Women in houses rushed past windows carrying dinner dishes and Sapphire’s stomach growled loudly. Suddenly, she realized just how hungry she was. Perhaps she should have purchased a meal from the dinning car when it was offered to her but she had been too nervous to eat anything since the last stop and was too tired to lift a fork.

Finding the building that belonged to Dr. Deland, Sapphire climbed the wooden porch and rang the bell outside. For a moment there was silence before the sliding of a chair across the floor inside echoed through the empty offices downstairs. Footsteps fell loudly on the staircase followed by the grumble of a man. The bottom offices became illuminated and the doctor swung the door open. It wasn’t very often he was interrupted during supper, but an emergency was an emergency and he would respond as he always did.

“Can I help you, Miss?” Dr. Deland stood in the doorway, looking Sapphire over to assess what her trouble was but he couldn’t find a single problem with her or the baby she was carrying. He was tall and handsome with well-groomed brown hair and clear gray eyes that looked like the sky on a rainy day. They were so clear Sapphire could almost see the white behind it.

Shifting Trista, Sapphire looked up at Dr. Deland. “My name is Sapphire Crane-Fitzgerald and I need your help,” she started to feel weak, the sleepless days catching up to her. “My husband…”

Dr. Deland caught Sapphire’s arm and led her into the front room of what would be called a clinic. His desk was in the corner near the window and he gently helped Sapphire into the chair there. Her bag thudded to the floor and her eyes swept around the dusty room. There were curtains hanging between several beds stretching from the front of the floor to the very back and cabinets with medical supplies stood against the staircase leading to his home.

“Ma’am?” he broke into her thoughts. “You said your last name was Crane-Fitzgerald?”

Sapphire shook her head, bleary blue eyes looking up at him. She nodded slightly. “I need you to help me find my husband. He is a Union soldier and I believe he has been wounded in the fighting...”

He cut her off without hearing another word. “I am sorry, ma’am, but I could not possibly assist a Yankee; it is against the law to become a sympathizer of the North and I would have to leave my home.”

“You do not understand, Dr. Deland!” Sapphire found renewed strength. Fights always had that effect on her. “I am Sapphire Crane, my father is Arden Crane! He paid for you to have that medical degree you so proudly hang on the wall. I need you to come with me! My husband’s life is on the line!”

“Does your father know that you traveled alone with an infant, Mrs. Fitzgerald?” Dr. Deland looked at the tiny pink bundle in her arms. “Would your husband approve?”

“My husband’s approval does not mean much to me,” Sapphire countered. “Logan knows that I am very strong willed and would do anything to save him. He would never try to control me. Now we are wasting time speaking of my behavior, Dr. Deland. Are you going to help me find my husband and save his life or am I going to telegram my father tomorrow morning and ask him to call in the loan you have left on this building?”

“Do you understand that I can lose more than this building if I am captured while aiding a and abetting Yankee, especially a wounded one? Both you and I, even your husband, can end up in Libby Prison or Belle Isle if we are caught.”

“The risk of prison is worth my husband’s life, Dr. Deland. He is all I have in the world besides my daughter and though the risk to her is great, the risk to me is minimal. I cannot live knowing that he could have been saved.”

The doctor sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Nor could I.”

“Joshua,” his wife called from the top of the staircase. “Who is at the door, dear?”

“Rosalyn, come here a moment,” he returned, knowing his wife was not going to approve. “There is someone I would like you to meet.”

The soft patter of women’s feet and the rustle of petticoats brushing against the wooden banister were the only sounds in the room for a moment as Rosalyn Deland descended the stairs. Her beauty stuck Sapphire. Rosalyn was petite with curly brown hair that formed waves around her shoulders. Her silver-grey eyes sparkled even in the darkness and though tiny in stature she had a roundness to her features that made her all the more striking.

“Rosalyn, darling, this is Sapphire Crane-Fitzgerald, the daughter of Arden Crane,” he explained, motioning to the girl at his desk. “She comes with a rather dangerous request.”

“Oh,” Rosalyn bowed her head slightly in greeting to Sapphire. She recognized the last name Crane. The moment Rosalyn spoke, Sapphire realized the woman was clearly from the North as well. It was to her benefit that both parties were not from this town. “It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” She looked at her husband. “What request?”

“Her husband is a Union soldier and she believes that he was injured recently. She has asked me to travel with her to find him, which may mean journeying to the Union camp outside of town.” He sighed. “I have agreed to go.”

“What?” Rosa gasped. “Do you realize the danger? You cannot seriously be considering this, Joshua! Only a fool would do this for a stranger!”

He nodded, braving her anger. “As a favor to her father I must do this, Rosa. She and her baby have come quite far to save his life. I cannot abandon them now.”

Rosalyn looked at Sapphire, who cradled the now whimpering baby in her arms. It was obvious that this girl was barely seventeen and loosing her husband would be something that could scar her forever. Rosalyn couldn’t ask this woman to change her mind, not when it was obvious she needed her husband. In fact, she knew deep down inside that should Joshua ever be called to arms she would search for him if she felt he were in danger. “I shall come too. You’ll need someone to assist you and I can be of use with the child.”

“Rosa…” he argued.

“No. Either we both go or neither one of us leaves this building, Joshua. I can pack up some supplies and part of our supper and we can start out now. We may not even reach their camp by midnight.”

“You are a wonderful woman,” he kissed her cheek.

She didn’t reply as she rushed back up the stairs to prepare a pack of medical supplies and food for their trip. It was a good five miles to the Union camp, from what they were told by men coming into the town. They would need to walk swiftly and hidden by the darkness if they didn’t wish to be seen.

“I hate to be so much trouble,” Sapphire told him. “But you are the only person I know here and I just can sense that Logan has been wounded. I cannot let him die. Not here, not tonight. He has yet to meet our daughter.”

He nodded. “You and your daughter can rest on the first bed there,” he motioned. “We shall leave soon. Most of the stores should be closed in ten minutes time and we should not be seen leaving town and heading for their camp. I shall see if I can find something to carry the child in so your arms to not get so tired.”

“Thank you.” Sapphire nodded, looking forward to lying down for even a few moments. Climbing onto the cot he motioned to, she closed her eyes with the baby resting against her chest. With the darkness engulfing her, she could see the man she loved and prayed he was still alive.

Logan dragged himself down the dusty streets outside of Yorktown, keeping himself hidden along the side of the road. When the Union army had begun the battle that morning, they found themselves looking at a weakened line of Rebel soldiers dressed in gray and butternut brown. The attack had gone well, but the fighting rarely stopped and through the smokey haze of gunpowder, Logan witnessed the first man he ever shot falling to the ground in a lifeless heap. Shaken by the act, Logan had lost his ability to concentrate. He had fallen back slightly, but it did not keep the sting of the ball from piercing through his body.

The Union Army hadn’t even attempted to save him, leaving him fallen as they forged ahead against the Confederate Army. He had noticed that sometimes doctors would aid only the men they thought were going to survive. Obviously, he wasn’t one of them. With his prize possessions safely tucked away within his pockets, Logan had forced himself from the ground and into the woods. He stopped only for a few minutes to use his sleeve as a bandage over the wound made by the musket ball. Men started to claim the fallen bodies around him but Logan refused to be so far from his bride. Leaving only his coat behind, Logan left the site of the battle while the armies took up camp for the night. No one would miss him, he knew, because he was wounded and useless to the army now.

Somehow, he had managed to steady himself enough to walk for the last four or so hours towards Yorktown and could already see the buildings that marked the outskirts of the small city. Every time he heard the hooves of horses or the crunching of rocks beneath wagon wheels or feet, he would duck into the brush along side the pathway and hide, continuing to move between the trees until it was safe enough to walk on the street.

But he knew that twilight was a safe time to continue traveling. Most of the town would be boarded up in their homes, sharing their suppers in the soft candlelit dinning rooms, which meant he could safely make it through town without being spotted. He planned to find a train heading north and climb aboard. With luck, he could control the blood long enough to make it home, even if he had lost quite a bit as it was.

Suddenly, the murmur of people talking headed for him and Logan groaned, wishing people would be more cooperative. Slipping back into the woodlands, he peered into the darkness and tried to watch for the first signs of the people he heard. The soft cry of an infant joined the hushed talk of two women and a man. Logan could recognize one of the voices and swore he was hearing things. The voice was clearly that of his wife and for a moment it filled him with renewed vigor and life.

But as abruptly as it appeared, it waned. He had grown too tired to haul himself from the hiding spot within the soft, damp greenery of the woods. The cushion provided by the plant life was comforting and he couldn’t bear to move again. Closing his eyes, he gathered all the strength he had left and called out. “Sapphire!”

Sapphire froze, looking around her. Though she could hear his voice, she could not see his body and was wondering is she were hearing things. “Please tell me you heard that,” she begged the doctor and his wife. “Tell me you heard someone calling my name!”

Rosa nodded. “I heard that; it sounded as if it were coming from the woods.” She took the baby from Sapphire. “Over that way.”

Sapphire lifted the front of her skirt, running towards the thicket with Joshua at her heels. “Logan!” she cried as she searched the area. “Logan!”

Logan believed he was dreaming as he heard her voice. “The cry of an angel,” he breathed. “Sapphire! Over here,” he tried to lift himself from the ground but collapsed again. Mustering his strength, he waved his cap in the air.

“Logan,” she fell to the ground beside his body, lifting his head and putting it into her lap. Her fingers danced through the thick hair. “Darling, I’m so glad I found you,” she told him, looking into his eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. His uniform was stained in the crimson blood that had flowed from the wound, though Sapphire couldn’t tell where it had struck. There was far too much blood on the left side of his body and she felt her stomach clench painfully in fear.

“Why did you come?” he asked laboriously as the doctor removed the blood soaked cloth from his body and examined the wound made by the musket ball. “It is too dangerous for you to be here so far along.”

Sapphire laughed slightly, brushing away her tears. “I already had our daughter, Logan. She is so beautiful,” she sniffled, waving the nurse over. She removed the daughter from her arms and bared the baby’s face for Logan to see. “Meet Trista.”

“Just like my dream,” he mouthed, tired and thirsty.

Rosalyn poured the slightest bit of water into his mouth before assisting her husband with his work. Neither of the medical workers said a simple word to anyone. She always predicted what he was going to need or do and simply handed over the materials needed.

“I had to come,” she told him, kissing his head. “Trista and I need you, Logan. I just had this feeling that you needed us as much.”

“Do your parents know,” he gritted his teeth against the pain as the doctor probed the injury, “that you are here?”

“No. No one knows that I left,” she chewed on her lip nervously.

“How did you know?” he faded.

“Anya,” was her simple reply.

“You and that girl are to be the death of me, Sapphire Fitzgerald,” he moaned, feeling the musket ball pull free of his flesh. Dizziness overtook him and he closed his eyes.

“No! Open your eyes, Logan!” she demanded. “Please!”

Trista began to cry, her screams filling the cool night air. It was as if she could feel her mother’s pain and her father’s life slipping away.

“Logan, please, Trista needs you,” she cried. “I need you.”

His eyes opened and he looked up at his crying daughter and his sobbing wife. He couldn’t bear to witness her pain any longer. “Tell Trista I shall…”

“No! Hold on, Logan,” she pleaded. “Just hold on. Do not say a word. Save what strength you have but do not give up on me! You are so close, Logan. Dr. Deland is going to mend you and we shall never know that you were wounded.”

“I love you,” he told her. “And I love our daughter,” his breathing was struggled. “But I do not know if God has the same plans that we do, darling.” He paused a moment, one tear rolling down his ash covered face. “I tried so hard to get to you, Sapphire. I wanted to go home to you and our child and,” he gasped. “I am sorry that my strength is not enough this time. I am thankful for each moment I had with you,” he closed his eyes. “I am so tired.”

“Do not sleep,” she begged with teary eyes. “Please, Logan, for me. Do not sleep.”

“I love you,” his whispered on a breath. “Kiss me one last time?”

Sapphire was shaking so horribly that she laid her daughter in a basket Rosalyn had the foresight to bring. Lying down near her husband with her face inches from his own, she kissed his lips softly and gently. “It is not our last kiss, Logan. You are not going to die yet,” she told him, her tears falling onto his face. “I shall not allow it. We have just stared our life together, Logan. God would not be so cruel to take you now. We are going to have a little house in Harmony with babies in every room. Please, hold on for me, Logan. Hold on for Trista.”

“We shall be together again someday,” he promised silently, only his lips moving. He couldn’t say another word and closed his eyes again.

Then there was silence.

Sapphire’s breath caught in her throat and she shook him. The doctor and his wife continued to work on Logan, refusing to believe it wasn’t possible to spare him from death. In the darkness of night with only a lantern for light, Sapphire looked up to the heavens. “No!” she shouted. “You cannot have him! He is mine! You cannot give him to me and take him so abruptly! I will not let you steal my child’s father!”

“Sapphire,” Rosalyn put an arm around the younger woman.

“NO!” Sapphire screamed. “LOGAN!”

Epilogue
April 11, 1865

Lee Surrenders to Grant at Appomattox!

Sapphire’s delicate finger brushed against the bolded letters of the newspaper headline, her fingers smearing the ink on the page. General Robert E. Lee had surrendered to Grant at a private home in the small town of Appomattox. The North had won, though Sapphire had to wonder if it was worth the loss of life. Gettysburg was long since over; the two-year anniversary of the bloody battle just months away, but those men had died and would never know that their fight hadn’t been in vain. Or had it?

“We here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom,” Sapphire repeated the words she had memorized from the newspaper article on President Lincoln’s speech. She had been so touched, so moved, that she cried and saved the small clipping of his address to read to her daughter Trista someday. She wanted her daughter to know that the great Civil War was not some menial battle from the history but a life-changing event in her world.

“Trista! Do not touch that rose!” Sapphire called to her now three-year-old daughter, who turned and smiled innocently. Trista was a beautiful child with long curly black hair and big round blue eyes. She looked much like her father except for the orbs that were definitely from Sheridan. Trista waved and ran off towards her Aunt Tessa.

Tessa smiled at Sapphire, taking her niece’s hand and leading her towards a swing, which dangled from a tree in the Fitzgerald backyard. The eleven-year-old girl was definitely an elegant child that longed for the moment she was considered a woman. Her brown hair was braided today, though it was often loose and flowing in subtle curls. Her big brown eyes were filled with a childish excitement and she endlessly talked about fate. She believed one day she would meet and marry a man much like Sapphire had met and married Logan.

Sapphire sighed and closed her eyes. Logan…She often thought about her wonderful husband and all the things that had brought her to this point in her life. It was hard for her to believe that she was now twenty when it seemed like only yesterday she had been sixteen and new to the hills of Harmony. Now Harmony was the only place she considered home and Boston was long since a faded memory. But Logan wasn’t a memory; he was so much more to her than that. He always would be.

Dr. Deland looked up at Sapphire, his hands coated in Logan’s blood. The woman’s red-rimmed eyes haunted him and he couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t give up, wouldn’t give up, on Sapphire’s husband. “Rosalyn, go back home for the wagon. We shall need to bring him to the clinic, darling. Hurry!”

“But, Joshua!” she argued, knowing that no man could live after the amount of blood Logan had lost, it didn’t matter where the wound was. They hadn’t found him in time and giving Sapphire false hope wasn’t going to help her at all.

“Go!” he demanded.

Rosalyn nodded and climbed to her feet, hurrying down the street towards their clinic.

Sapphire tried to control her cries and looked at the doctor. She trusted him, believed that he wouldn’t let her down now. “Can…can you save him?” she whispered.

Joshua didn’t want to make a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, but all the same he found himself nodding in agreement. “I shall save him, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I must.”

The wagon ride back to the clinic was quiet except for the crunching of gravel beneath the wooden wheels. Sapphire sat in the back with Trista in the basket beside her and Logan’s hand clutched in her own. He seemed so peaceful and Sapphire was calmed slightly by the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing; she hadn’t noticed before but he was. It wasn’t steady, it wasn’t even, but it was enough to give her hope that Logan would live.

Dr. Deland had explained that the wound was just below the joint of Logan’s shoulder. While the musket ball had severed some veins, it had missed the artery and bones. With any luck, they could save him though only time would tell.

Once at the clinic, they brought Logan to a special room off the back and Joshua asked Sapphire’s help in redressing Logan. They burned his uniform and put him into something Joshua no longer wore in case someone should spot Logan. They were simply going to say he was wounded while hunting.

For days, Sapphire sat beside his bed while Logan was unconscious. Dr. Deland had started losing his faith that Logan would wake, but Sapphire didn’t. Everyday she and Trista would hold a vigil at Logan’s bedside and pray that he would soon open his eyes. For seven long days she watched his chest rise and fall and never once stopped hoping and believing that her husband was going to wake up. By the end of the seventh day, however, she grew weary of waiting and left the room with her daughter. She couldn’t watch her husband slip away any longer…

“Sapphire! We have been looking everywhere for you,” Logan chuckled from the doorway. He jostled the child on his hip slightly, earning a laugh from him “Have we not, Aidan?”

Sapphire turned to see her husband holding their two-year-old son in his arms. Aidan was a beautiful child that was graced with the looks of the Crane family except for his eyes; those most certainly came from Logan. They were a piercing chocolate brown color that twinkled with a knowledge that exceeded his years. “Have you really, Aidan?”

“Yes, Mama!” he giggled as his father tickled his stomach. He rested his blond head against his father’s shoulder and Sapphire’s eyes met Logan. Beneath her son’s cheek and the cloth of Logan’s shirt lay the lasting scar of his battles with the North. Logan had never returned to the Army, not even in the drafts that followed.

Rising, Sapphire crossed to her husband, removing her darling little boy from his arms. “Mm, you are getting so big, Aidan. I can hardly hold you sometimes,” she kissed his cheek. “Did you hitch the surrey, Logan? We must not be late.”

“All done, my darling,” he kissed her lips softly. “I love you.”

“And I you,” she smiled brightly. “Trista! Tessa! Come girls, we are leaving now!”

“Otay Mama!” Trista called, hopping down from the swing before it stopped moving. Sapphire groaned; one of these days that child was going to fall and break her arm. Trista didn’t seem worried, however, as she bounded up the stairs and into her father’s open arms. “Carry me, Papa!” she begged.

“Carry you?” Logan scoffed. “Why should I?”

“Because you love me,” Trista grinned brightly, laughing at her silly father. “Right Mama?”

“That he does,” Sapphire brushed a piece of her daughter’s unruly hair off her forehead. “You would never know I worked hours on end fixing that mop of hair,” she sighed.

“Ah, I am most certain your mother said the same one,” Logan winked, heading back inside and through their house. “Hurry or we shall be late for Mary-Anna’s wedding.”

“Believe me, Logan, we shan’t be late. I could not miss this for the world,” Sapphire returned, not completely believing that little Mary-Anna was now old enough to wed. It seemed like only yesterday she and Sapphire had played with the dollhouse their father had special ordered in Boston. Now they were both going to have homes with families. “Tessa, could you please take Aidan? I must grab my satchel.”

“Of course, Sapphire,” she willingly took her nephew and scurried down the hall.

Returning to the table where the paper lay, Sapphire couldn’t help but study the picture of Lee and Grant once more. Folding the paper neatly in half, she returned it to the table and closed her eyes. God had granted her a miracle the day that Logan awoke from his weeklong slumber. After that, her husband seemed to get better every minute of every day. The first time he held Trista, he cried and simply enjoyed the squirming bundle. A year later they were granted with their son and Logan had broken all rules of propriety to be at Sapphire’s side as she gave birth. He had been the first person to hold the baby and given their child a name and endured her abuse and name calling quite well given the circumstances. He left the room relatively unscathed, except for a black eye caused by Sapphire when he mentioned she sounded like a bear.

Placing a flattened palm against her stomach, Sapphire opened her eyes. Logan had yet to learn that child number three was well on his or her way to joining the family. She had yet to tell anyone and refused to be locked away at home just now. After all, she wasn’t showing and until she started she wasn’t going to let anyone lock her away in the house. Grabbing her satchel, she rushed through the house to her waiting family.

“Ready, love?” Logan took her hand as she sat beside him.

“Always,” she told him, squeezing his hand gently.

Trista:
My parents were both killed in a surrey accident just after Christmas of 1888. My youngest sibling, Noel, would have been sixteen. Aidan had already been marred, as had I, and we all remained in Harmony as our parents requested. Our younger brother, my parents’ third child, lived only four days and was buried in the cemetery at the church. His name had been Anthony, named for my fallen uncle.

I believe that my parents’ love was blessed and yet cursed. They had their share of trials but through it all remained firm. Mother suffered several miscarriages between Anthony and Noel. When Anthony was taken and Noel fell sick, my mother’s heart was broken. Losing Noel on Christmas day of 1887 had been quite difficult for my parents. The only saving grace of their love had been that they perished together; neither would have survived without the other, of that I am sure.

Mother used to speak often of her life with father during the great civil war. She once mentioned, in passing, that they were ‘star-crossed lovers’ much like Romeo and Juliet. Part of me truly believes that they were and one day they shall return to this earth to live and love again. Their love was like a fairytale and every person knows that those have no end and no beginning, they just are. My parents’ love “just was.” Wherever they are, I am certain that Noel and Anthony are with them, awaiting their next chance to share their love on earth.

The End

Disclaimer: This story in is in no way meant to infringe upon the rights belonging to , NBC, or any entity thereof. All rights to Passions and any related content, including characters used, belong to "Outpost Farms Production Inc", James E. Reilly, and NBC.
This story is the property of the author. Copyright 2003. Nothing may be reprinted in whole or in part without the written permission of the author.
Northern Affection- Copyright © 2003 - All Rights Reserved.