The Forgotten Ones (A Completed Steamy, Historical Romance)

December 23, 1861

Armstrong made it home just before the storm hit.  That was one prayer answered today.  We had a wonderful dinner, and the storm brought us all together in the parlor.

Ever since our little talk, Claudine seems happier.  More content I guess.  Patrick is probably one of the most intellegent men I know.  He gave me the power to say what needed to be said.

Claudine sat in front of the piano and played, while Mae sang us some Christmas Carols.  I was sitting here hoping I'll just be able to get up when it's bedtime.  My feet are swollen, my belly is actually full, and it doesn't help that the babies are dancing to this music.  I ran my hand up and down my belly as I listened. 

My pride at this point is nearly gone, since I can't make it to the portable pot in my room.  Even Patrick had to help me once into the guest quarters. 

"Shhh!" Patrick told everyone to be quiet.  "I hear hooves. At least four horses.  Men, grab your firearms." 

"Patrick, no.  Get to the cellar, and take Mae and Bub with you."  I ordered.  "Eugene, Wilford, and Armstrong, grab your arms and blow out that lamp."

I heard the horses stop, and Claudine walks over and steps in front of me. Does she actually think she is going to protect me?  What is she thinking?  Her dress could wrinkle.  I mentally rolled my eyes.

Pairs of boots stomped toward the front door, and there was a knock.

"You guys stay back.  I'll get it."  Armstrong said while holding his revolver.

"Can I help you?" I heard Armstrong ask.

"Yes, we are looking for Mrs. Westlake.  Colonel Westlake's wife?" 

Colonel?

My heart pounded.

"May I ask what this is concerning?"

"Well, umm, Mr. Westlake said we could have a warm bed through Christmas."

"Who is it, Armstrong?" I asked.

"Union soldiers."  He yelled back.

"Take their firearms and allow them in, it's cold out there."  I yelled.

They stepped in and came into view.  I tried to push myself up.  "Oh, ma'am, that's not necessary.  Please, don't get up.  He informed us you are nearing delivery." 

"Where is my husband?"  I asked.

"He's right..."

"Naomi?  Armstrong, where's my wife?" 

My heart skipped a beat and he came into view. He didn't notice the woman in front of me, but dashed over and fell to his knees.

"Naomi."  He whispered, as he traced my face and leaned in to give me a deep and needing kiss.

He pulled back.  "Looks like I made it in time.  My god, you're even more beautiful." 

He layed his hand on my stomach.  "Wow, you are so beautiful and you look miserable."  Everyone laughed.

"I'm much better now."  I said, and he tilted his head and looked straight through me.  "I love you so much."  He kissed me and my belly, not even caring that everyone is watching.

He looked up at me with a tear in his eye.  "I missed you so bad." 

I started to cry.  "I missed you, but how is this possible?"  I felt his bearded face and just sobbed.

"It's okay.  Don't cry, you'll make me cry in front of my men."  He wiped my tears away with his thumb.

"General McClellan needed word sent to Rutherford about some rebel forces nearby.  He sent us and granted us a few weeks leave for Christmas. I hope you don't mind a few extra at Christmas dinner."