The Forgotten Ones (A Completed Steamy, Historical Romance)

October 15, 1861

My husband was only home a short while before he mustered in again at Indianapolis.  He went straight into battle at Cheat Mountain, which lasted days.  He was one of the lucky ones to survive, just like my father and brothers.  I count my blessings constantly. 

Oliver writes and explains the south is suffering, and there have been many victories, but I still feel like we are sitting ducks.  Eventually, the South will want to cross into the North, and we are sitting exactly where I can foresee troops crossing.

I worry night and day about Oliver and our family.  He has already been in three battles that I know about, either from news I hear in town, or his letters.  I do know he survived all three, and so have my father and brothers.

I find it much harder to get around these days.  My midsection has grown considerably, and whether it's one or two babies, they must have their fathers stamina.  Night and day, they remind me of their presence.  Dr. Sams cannot say for certain, but he did feel around and says there are most likely two children growing inside me. 

This has put more stress on Oliver. Mothers being lost in childbirth isn't uncommon, and delivering two will not be easy.  I've given up hope that he will be here at home when I give birth.  He will not know about our children for possibly weeks after they arrive.

His letters are sporadic.  Sometimes I receive one he wrote, after another that comes later.  On average, I receive one or two a month.  It's not quite enough, but I write him daily and mail them once per week.  It's hard telling if and when he receives them.

Last week I was in the barn, when Eugene and Wilford decided to set off dynamite.  It scared my horse, and I was put in harms way. 

Armstrong had a complete fit and confiscated all of their explosives.  They promised never to do it again, but these two men remind me of juvenile boys.  My hands are full enough. 

I'm also no longer to be in a stall with any horses or large farm animals.  The risk is too high, and my reflexes have grown slower carrying the weight of my children.  I feel as if daily I am losing more and more freedoms. 

Again, I'm in the barn, but this time just because I needed some time alone. There are several new kittens since I last checked.  I bent over to pick one up, and the voice I heard behind me sent chills down my spine.

"Isn't that a cute one."  I slowly turned, and my living nightmare has come true. 

Thomas Vest with his scarred up friend stood facing me. 

"My god, you're with child."   They both chuckled.  "Just think Bodine, that could have been your child if you had more time that day."

"What are you doing here?  You're supposed to be in prison."  I backed away. 

"Well, you see, the Union isn't always that smart."  He tapped his head.  "It's not hard to escape under the cloak of darkness."  He took a step toward me and sniffed my hair.

"You and that husband of yours have kept us from the war we always wanted.  Look, now he's nowhere in sight to save you."

His hand latched on to my arm and he twisted it.  "How is your back healing?"  Thomas shoved my face into the support beam and ripped off my blouse.  I wasn't wearing a corset, and he pulled down on the neck of my shift to expose the scars on my back.

"That's your handy work Bodine.  You should be proud."  They both laughed.

I tried to scream, but Thomas covered my mouth and reached up under my skirt.

"Bodine, we've got a wild one.  Why Mrs. Westlake, where is your petticoat?  Bodine, go keep watch while I give this lovely woman some attention."  He touched the nakedness between my legs.