Free Undaunted Love by Jennings Wright

love of my life, Olivia Byrd Colton. By God’s grace, I’ll come back to you soon, and we’ll have our wedding night. I swear it!” He gave her a final kiss and walked up the steps.
    “Always,” whispered Livvie, standing still until he disappeared into the stark building and the door shut behind him.

Chapter Twelve

    S HE LAY, CURLED UP ON the bed, tears wetting the pillow. Livvie could hear the sounds of laughter and the clattering of dishes from the small public room, and the occasional clop clop of a horse going by outside her window, but she hadn’t the energy to move. Tomorrow she would have to go home, but that was all that was going according their plan. She looked at her left hand, at the absence of a ring there. If only we’d gotten a ring, she thought, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
    When Rafe had left her alone in the cart in front of the militia’s headquarters, she hadn’t known how to get to the small inn where Jeb Greene, in his continuing generosity, had paid for a night’s stay for the newlyweds. For a long moment she hadn’t even remembered its name, and thought she was going to sit, sobbing, on the road all night. Finally it had come to her, and she remembered Rafe’s excitement about the Magnolia Inn and their wedding night. At least, with the name, she could ask directions. Glumly she flicked the reins and turned at the next street.
    It took three people, and three different explanations of Charleston’s roads, but she finally surrendered her horse and cart to the stable boy at the Magnolia, picked up her small valise, and walked slowly inside. She gave her name, and suffered the surprise from the innkeeper that she was alone. Tears welled up yet again, but she merely said, “He’s had to report for duty with the 1st Infantry.” The man gave her a sympathetic look and had his wife show her to her room.
    A pretty young maid had brought tea after she declined dinner. “But it’s paid for, Miz Colton. You must eat something!” Her blonde curls bobbed on her head as she nodded to make her point.
    “I’m sorry, I’m feeling a bit peaked. I’m sure I’ll be having breakfast, if you can let someone know.” Livvie dropped onto the bed and ran her hand over the wagon wheel cotton quilt, softened with age. The maid had left her, but returned fifteen minutes later with a tray of tea, biscuits, and lemon curd. It sat, cold now, on the small table under the window.
    Sighing, she got up from the bed and wandered around the room. She picked up a biscuit and nibbled it, looking out the window at the dark night. Finally she shook her head violently. No, Livvie Byrd, you’re not gonna go to pieces over this. You’re a married woman now, full grown, and you won’t act the child. She went to the small chest of drawers and opened it, hoping to find pen and paper. She opened the door and saw her maid coming out of another room.
    “Excuse me, may I get things to write a letter? And perhaps some soup brought in?” She smiled to make up for her previous rude behavior.
    The maid gave a quick curtsy, her green eyes smiling. “With pleasure, ma’am,” she said, and turned quickly to the kitchen.

    Rafe had been taken to a courtyard by a uniformed soldier, and left there on a bench to wait. He sat, his forearms on his thighs, his hands dangling, thinking only of Livvie. His wife. Well, his wife under God, if not in any other way. What a I fool I am! he thought. What was one more day of waiting? He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.
    “Soldier!” someone barked, and he looked up quickly, surprised. Five feet in front of him stood a stocky man of about forty with close-cropped gray hair, a pressed gray uniform, and a ferocious scowl.
    “Me?” he asked.
    “You see anyone else around here, son?” the man asked. “You’re comin’ with me.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Rafe to scramble up from the bench, grab his bag, and trot after him.
    Without turning, the man