A Country Divided (Closed)

When Grace arrived to the kitchen it was as if the storm itself had settled on the room. It only took a second to register the tense silence and with her normal ease, she drifted into the kitchen to dispel the mood.

“Good Morning,” she said in a sing-song tone, hugging on Sadie for just a moment, her eyes briefly meeting the Lieutenant’s. She felt the woman return her gesture and responded with her own greeting.

“Good Morning to you too,” Sadie answered kindly.

Grace released Sadie and turned to face Lieutenant Shepard, leaving Sadie to return her focus to the stove.

“Good Morning, Lieutenant Shepard. I hope you slept well last night,” she said with a smile.

Grace stepped forward closing the distance between them. “Sadie is a marvel. Your uniform looks positively brand new,” she commented, clearly pleased, as she hooked her arm in his and led him away from the kitchen. She wouldn’t ordinarily be so bold, but it was far better for the peace of mind of the household to lead him away for a time.

It hadn’t left her mind that he was still in some discomfort both physically and now emotionally. She knew the risks of having the enemy housed on the farm. She also knew what the southern soldiers would do if they found out. It was really a bad position for her. Either way, she was stuck in the middle, so it didn’t matter if she housed either side. Grace surmised the tense air that hung over the kitchen was worry over what would happen next. Grace led him out the front door and onto the porch.
Grace paused and looked beyond the horizon where the sun was rising. The dew that had fallen the night before was slowly burning off and a soft wind washed over them as they stood there. The sounds of the livestock could be heard in the distance and the rustle of the wind in the trees was a welcome sound. She wasn’t used to being this close to a stranger, and she felt the stiffness in his frame as they remained still. In response, Grace offered a chair as she unwound her arm from his and sat down. She gave him a kindly, understanding smile.

“There will always be different opinions on how I do things, Lieutenant, and not everyone will agree with me. It would be best to maintain some space between yourself and the denizens of the farm…Or at least the housekeeper anyways. She’s very protective and has no issues with stating her mind as you’ve noticed.”

For the first time, Grace studied his face in the light of day. She was curious about him and had a desire to know more. There was something about him she just couldn’t put her finger on. Grace wasn’t one to let anything get in the way when she was intrigued and a little tension was just a bump in the road.

“Now that you’ve had a little rest, what do you intend to do? I thought if you didn't have any plans, you might appreciate a short walk to some of those willow trees I mentioned. It might help give you some peace of mind."

He stayed mostly silent as Grace broke the tension of the room. Sometimes one just does best to keep themselves out of further trouble by speaking when the seeds of words are not planted in fertile ears, his sister used to say. He remained tense even as she touched his uniform, straightening it, like one that is more familiar than just meeting the night before. It was only when she encircled his arm did he really begin to relax. This was not just a feeling of familiarity, but of closeness. Here was a fine, upstanding young lady whom was leading him like one would do with a husband. He could feel her warm body hugging his arm, her soft curves under the brown dress, and it gave him a sense of peace, a sense of calmness. A sense that he was a thousand miles away from war.

As she spoke of their difference, it reminded him of a question he would need to ask sometime. Maybe not now as it may not be seen as proper, but sometime he would want to know of her brother and father. There is a war, and men from both states are fighting them.

But when she asked about his intentions his mind lost that concern, instead turning to really the question she asks.

“My intentions,” he started. “Well, I guess I haven’t thought about what I intend to do this day. My thought always go to what my commanders ask of me and what my men need.” His voice carried an odd tone, not one that is just repeating what he is trained to do, but that of honesty. “I sent a man to find out what order we are to take to rejoin the army, but I don’t expect today we will know. When I was with my men this morning, it seemed that we all are welcoming a respite from war. Without regular daily duties, most of them men are content to lay back and enjoy what seems to be a beautiful day on your farm. They may grow restless of this by tomorrow and I will need to put them to work, but today there are fine to be to their own.

“Which I guess,” he continued with a slow growing smile, “I have no plans. And a walk to the willows seems very welcoming. I assume you will be joining me to this place?”

Admittedly, the familiarity in which she had whisked him away was less troubling than Sadie’s reaction. She had bent the rules of gentility to serve the immediate need and she would confess and beg forgiveness later. Grace understood his position. She should have known based on Sadie’s behavior the night before that she would be cold to the Lieutenant. Any good Southern woman would do the same. Grace however, was a different breed of woman. She saw beyond the lines of the North and South. Therefore, she was glad he was going to take her up on her suggestion.

Her smile grew with his answer. “Well, I don’t have any concrete plans and someone needs to show the way. I would say your assumption, in this case, is accurate,” she answered. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

The butterflies in her stomach rose as she felt a stir of pleasure fill her. She hadn’t felt this sort of anticipation since the last gathering before she was whisked off to school. After, she was met with disappointment in residing at an all-girls school. Her education, therefore, was overseen by thoroughly proper older women. Women who, when faced with the breach of gentile behavior, became her taskmasters, temporarily bending her to their will. Grace quickly learned to bend like the weeping branches of her favorite willows to bide her time for the chance at an extraordinary education, far above most women of her station. Now here she sat, much like the girl who had left years ago, with just the simple hope for a perfect day beside the water and good company.
Good company? Dared she even think that way? A soft flush of color softened her cheeks and she stood from her chair. Grace stepped forward and rested her hands on the railing as her gaze swept over the fertile green. When she had sufficiently recovered from her thoughts she turned back to face Lieutenant Shepard.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked, motioning to the steps. Before she could gain his answer, James appeared from the front door.

“Miss Grace, your mother is awake.”

Grace smiled. “Can you make sure she gets her breakfast? I need to take a walk this morning,” Grace replied.

“You should have someone with you, Miss,” James reminded her.

“Not to worry, the Lieutenant will accompany me,” she answered, much to James’ dismay.

James nodded to her and to the young Lieutenant before retreating back into the house. The older man’s opinions meant little in the end. He hoped the family would return soon.

Grace returned her attention to the Lieutenant and once again motioned to the steps. As they descended to the green, Grace couldn’t detect the presence of the soldiers from the immediate front of the farm house. This was good for all concerned. As long as they remained concealed, all would be well.

There was a spring in the way she rose up from her chair. Yes his assumption was true, but her readiness seemed all that more spirited. If he didn’t know any better he would say she was blushing at the very idea. It made the lieutenant wonder what secrets the girl holds of the place they will visit; or more so what secrets she wishes to create there.

But as she encouraged him to come, he was reminded of his place. It only took a disdain look from her manservant and he was reminded that he was a Yankee in Rebel lands. Just as much, he was a gentleman, and she was only released by the man on that accompaniment.

As they stepped off the porch, he took a moment to look around the front lawn. Surprisingly with a farm this large, they were already by themselves right from when they were left by James. It gave him thought to be forward as she was in the kitchen and he presented his arm for her to take on their stroll. “Lead the way, Miss Southern,” he offered.

It was a beautiful day, with blue skies and only the slightest of breezes. The temperature will rise soon enough, but here in the morning it was still quite pleasant to him. As they walked he thought to learn more of this place.

“If I may be so forward, Miss Southern, it seems you are quite fond to share this place. I must only guess that it brings back to your younger days. Are they memories you’d share in good company?”

Grace took the lieutenant’s arm and she led him further away from the house. She was in no hurry and in fact, she probably walked a bit slower than she usually did. She had seen the way he favored one side the night before and she suspected he was being brave like all men generally were. He was either saddle-sore, or at some point injured himself somehow.

“Actually, I am very fond of the place. It’s out of the way and yet still on the farm. It’s the perfect place to think, to recharge and to relax. If you don’t mind my saying, lieutenant, you need the rest and relaxation as much as your men, if not more,” Grace answered frankly and with a smile.

As they moved around the east end of the house they left the shelter of the large shade trees and found the small stone path. The path carved out the way between the fields and into another grove of trees. The house behind them grew smaller as they walked. The fields had been broken up and still needed to be planted so the farm would be able to sustain itself through the winter. The fresh smell of dirt filled the air around them and they could hear the sounds of crickets and birds breaking up the silence. The thin grove of trees towered over them as the two walked into the shade. taken a few steps before they could make out the sounds of water in the distance.

“I used to spend a lot of time beyond this grove. Mostly avoiding chores when I was younger, but as I got older, it became a place of peace for me. After the description you gave me last evening, I thought perhaps you could appreciate this place as much as I have.”

The grove was significantly cooler earlier in the morning than it would be in mid afternoon and it almost gave her a chill. Thankfully, they didn’t have to go far before they left the security of the trees and were met with a grassy knoll. They could see large, voluminous, weeping willow trees scattered beyond them, situated along the banks of a stream. The soft breeze washed over them as the rays of the sun started to warm the earth.

“I used to hide under the branches of the bigger trees and nap through the afternoons.” Grace laughed at the thought. “I can’t recall how many times someone had to be sent out to find me.”

Grace unhooked her arm from Lieutenant Shepard and approached one of the larger trees. She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers as she parted the curtain of leaves. She glanced over her shoulder with a smile as he watched her nearly disappear behind the curtain of green. Grace walked towards the middle of the tree and approached the closed basket that rested near the trunk. She pulled a blanket from the basket and waited to see if he was going to follow.

The grove itself was far more comfortable than he could fathom. The cool air surrounding the light babble of the stream; the virtual embrace of solitude by the willows; the soft grass carpeting the soil. There was little wonder why a young girl should find a place like this so welcoming, and moreso a grown woman a place of comfort.

As she released his arm, he spoke about the glenn in amazement. “It is like your own personal eden here. Thank you for showing me this place. I almost feel I am not worth of such favor to see this grove.”

As he turned he saw she had a blanket and was preparing it to be placed out on the grass. He smiled warmly, remembering the days of a nice picnic near the falls with his family and followed her to join her on the blanket. “I must warn you, though, if you choose to make this place any more comfortable for me they would not only have to send someone out looking for you, but for me as well.”

As he moved his body to lay on the blanket, a pain shot up through his side. The rest he had did much to calm the strain he felt from the days in the saddle, but with the right angle if shot up his muscles from his thigh, through his hip, and curling around to the small of his back. He tried to hide it, since he felt he did a good job until now doing so, but as the pain turned to cramp he couldn’t hide the groan of pain and the stiffness as he stopped on the way to the blanket to let the cramp move through.

Finally as he found the ground he put on a brave face and smiled to her. “Excuse my noises, Miss. It seems I could use more rest myself.”

Grace became concerned. She had suspected of course, but wasn't 100 percent sure until this moment. The grassy carpet wasn't as rock hard as the earth, but it was still uncomfortable for a young officer who had spent too much time in the saddle.

Her deep blue eyes looked deep into his.

"Lieutenant Shepard, I do believe you will need a bit more rest than you anticipated. I should return you to the house and to one of the proper bedrooms upstairs."

She knew he was going to argue and say he didn't need all of it, but Grace just wasn't one to be argued with. However, she didn't have the heart to move him until he had rested from the walk. While it wasn't an overly long walk, it was enough he would need to rest before returning to the house.

"Until you are rested well enough to make the walk back, you might as well get comfortable. While I appreciate your attention to formalities, you must think practically, for the moment."

Clearly she meant his uniform jacket. Not only was it heavy, but it was constricting all in the same. Grace sat on the blanket next to him and held out her hand waiting for him to remove the jacket.

"Tell me about your leg. What have you done to it?" she asked.

She looked sweet, kind, caring; and it was hard not to let his body warm some when she found his eyes with hers. Yet her questions of his health worried him at first. With the bravery his men showed, there is no reason why he should be bedridden in a house with a bit of a pain. Benjamin scowled when she suggested the return to the house. While it would have been impolite to say such a thing, she was near foolish to think that a little pain in his side will be healed by immediately getting back up again and walking back especially now that they just arrived here and he to the ground.

He unbutton the jacket, as she sat down and made her demands to drop formalities. “I assure you Miss Southern,” he replied calmly. “There is little need to walk back now that we just arrived. I appreciate your desire to become more comfortable, as this place surely requires that of any that come here.”

His uniform coat slipped over his shoulders and he folded it neatly before handing it to her. Sure, she waited for it before folding, but it was some of the stubbornness in him he let out. His shirt underneath was army blue, and without any marking suggesting rank or service. Indeed in this state of undress only the line down the length of his pants could suggest he was in uniform anymore this day.

“Feel free to sit on the coat if you wish, Miss Southern to give you extra comfort on the ground; or if you are cold.” He smiled, “I wish not be the only one comfortable here.”

When she asked about his injury he lowered his head and sighed slightly. “I wish you don’t hope for a great wound from war, where a brave soul rushed to save his fellow man,” he admitted. “We have spent much of the days since Shiloh on the move. My horse has grown lean to which it strains my side if too much time riding. A strain only compounded by trying to hide it from my men so they don’t see me as soft.” Sheepishly he looks up at her with a light smirk. “I fear the reputation I would have to retire from the army with a saddle sore.”

He leaned in a little closer to her without thinking, placing a hand ontop of hers. He smile and spoke just above a whisper. "I can rely on you to keep my stiff leg a secret from my boys, can't I?"

Hm! Did he just tell her no? He did, she thought.

Well, can’t fault the man for exerting his own will. Men were the same most everywhere she had the pleasure to visit. Maybe she was being silly. She didn’t think much more of it.

Grace set his coat aside. Actually, she was very comfortable where she was. She didn’t want to break many more proprieties. She didn’t want to seem rude, or be so willing to cast aside the general rules of society.

There was no telling what a march it could be going from place to place. She just couldn’t imagine it. Grace really didn’t want to. But as Lieutenant Shepard explained how far they had come, she did feel some pity. It was the same for all men on both sides.

She felt a warmth spread from his hand to hers and she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She was focused on his face, his mouth, and what he was saying to her.

"I can rely on you to keep my stiff leg a secret from my boys, can't I?"

Grace stammered a little, “O..O…of course, Lieutenant.” What was wrong with her? She was acting like someone fresh off the farm. Grace felt a flush enter her cheeks and she glanced down. “I just dislike having people in discomfort for any reason. I do hope you understand,” she explained. Maybe she was just a foolish girl.

The sounds of the stream began to interrupt her thoughts and happily she let her dark feelings go. It was always like a cleansing here. Her gaze fell on the hand that rested over hers. Grace remained quiet. The bottom line was that she just wanted to enjoy this place for what it was and she wanted to share it with him. It was an odd notion.

In an instant, his world changed.

Sure he was keen to the woman, and it was likely no accident his mind chose to place his hand on hers; but as Benjamin saw her face flush and her eyes move away things surely changed. He could feel his heart rise up a few extra beats, his shirt become uncomfortable warm, and his breath quicken as well. Yes he was keen to her, but now he felt there was something from her too.

He thought of what to say, something to keep their decorum, but also to complement her. Yet his own foolishness was all he could think of.

“It seems silly really,” he said looking away now himself. “Worried about what my men think of what troubles me. But it is the humbleness of being a leader. I am sure you understand, I see it in you. The one that must be strong for those that look up to you. Even in the face of an army, it as if you remain steadfast on this farm.”

He encircled her hand with his fingers. It felt soft in his hand, yet warm. He turned back to her face, with the smooth cheeks and her hair pulled back showing a dainty ear, and he was feeling that deep urge he received when as a boy a pretty girl caught his fancy.

“Yet your heart turns to what is good. Even now, you come a place that gives you pleasure and your first thought is to leave it for the comfort of a man whom is nothing more than the enemy. It is almost, to me, that I would be more uncomfortable any other place than here. And would only trouble me more if I was to keep you from such pleasure.”

As soon as he said it, his mind was shook with the forwardness of such thoughts, but instead of fearing away from it he hung and waited for her response. His eyes waiting to see it in hers, and his touch feeling it as well.

As his words faded from his lips, the meaning remained ever present in her mind and her soft, pink lips parted as she drew in a breath because of it. She lifted her gaze slowly to where her eyes eventually met his and she smiled.
Grace could still feel the heat in her cheeks retreating, but she felt him closer than ever. She tried very hard not to focus overly on him, from his firmly lined jaw, to his probing gaze. And yet, within the gaze, she felt a familiarity she wanted to keep.

He was reaching out to her. Moreso than any other could have managed. In the midst of uncertainty, the shedding of blood and tears, and the desire for home, he could speak to her still despite their origins. He could bring her to feel something she had until now neglected to nurture.

Grace tucked a few of the stray tendrils of hair behind her ear. She wasn’t sure of what to say. It was very clear she had not imagined the connection between them and there were so many things she wanted to say. She couldn’t let her thoughts rule her mouth. She just couldn’t for fear of ruining the sweetness of the moment. Instead, she formulated a response and spoke softly.

“Then I will speak of the return no more, for I wouldn’t wish to cause you a moment of discomfort. If I did so unwittingly, it would cause a despair I neither wanted nor could suffer through. You are a strong man, First Lieutenant Benjamin Shepard, to march so far from home and to even find some sense of pleasure away from it. It pleases me to hear it from your lips.”

She passed her tongue across her gentle lips, wetting them. The nervous churn in her stomach growing.

Peering into her eyes, watching the way she pushed her hair back off her face, and noticing the way she wet her lips - it all brought an increased feel of need from him. It left him only to act.

He leaned towards her, closing the space between them in an instant. With a slight shift of his head, he touched his lips to hers. They were soft, moist, and tender against his. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. He curled his lips, allowing to slightly suck on her flesh. He did what he could to make the moment linger, as long as he what felt right for the first of such kisses.

Then he ended it, and sat back to open his eyes.

“That was forward of me.”

He said that, with little inflection. Where his mind and body argued over his actions, was trouble in his voice. Yes it was forward of him, he had only just met the woman, and no gentleman should think of such action. Yet it felt right, it felt good. So it was a question as well. An opportunity to let her chastise him, or accept it for what it was.

And in the silence & the wait for her to react, he felt a thousand lifetimes go by.

The moment his lips touched hers, she felt a new energy fill her. The nervous churning in her stomach faded. She realized now it had been a longing anticipation met by his kisses from his firm, but gentle lips. She dared not move, lest she disturb whatever daydream she had walked in to. Grace then gently leaned into the kiss and her eyes closed. His presence alone made her want to cast off all propriety.

When their lips parted and each recovered, Grace was completely without words. Yes, it was forward of him. It was also forward of her that she didn’t pull away. When his lips had finally found hers, she was reveling in the pleasure it brought her. Grace found she enjoyed his kiss. In the sudden silence, and much to his surprise as well as hers, she leaned forward and kissed him again.

It was indeed a surprise to him when she advanced on him, and kissed him again. Yet it was no doubt a welcome surprise. He let their kiss wet lips slide across each other in at first curious and somewhat innocent contact. Slowly, he began to part his lips to allow the soft flesh of hers to be tasted.

He turned more towards her. His hips shifting to where only one was on the ground. His hand leaving the one rested on the blanket to the other draped along her side. He clasped her arm on the sleeve of her dress, applying slight pressure to bring her closer to him. The was an inner desire to physically touch her, even if it was through their clothing, that was undeniable in the growing heat of his body.

Yet his mind came clear, reminding him who he was, where he was at. He broke the kiss and and leaned slightly aware from her. He opened his eyes to try to find hers. Through a raised breath he said, sheepishly, “It wouldn’t be proper … would it.”

Those few moments were undeniably the most pleasant and she felt him when he drew her closer. She wasn’t resisting, instead, fully engaged with him. These moments demanded her full participation and she could feel the connection they shared.

When he broke the kiss, her eyelids fluttered and his gaze was met with hers. Reality once again invaded the tranquility. Grace pulled away from him. She allowed her desire to rule her actions and his statement reminded her of it. Her cheeks flushed deeply, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” came her answer, softly from her lips.

Her apology came as a surprise to him, and he immediately start to stutter out a response.

“Oh … n-n-no. You don’t … I mean, I am the one that is sorry.” His eyes were wide. His speaking was as much a struggle against his raised breath and the sudden warmth of the day cause by the intimacy. “I sh-shouldn’t have. That is to say …”

He stopped. Closed his eyes. Swallowed hard. He was a Lieutenant for the Lord’s sake, he can speak to a woman.

With eyes still closed he continued, now more calm and in control. “You asked your people to trust me because I am a gentleman. A gentleman doesn’t advance on a woman, no matter how fetching she is.”

He opened his eyes slowly, and first looked down to where his hand was still on her arm. Where it lay left his arm close to the swell of her bosom, and the curve of her hip. While he was not ignorant to the vicinity of her body before, it just seemed more pronounced now. He couldn’t look back to her eyes out of shame, but also because he felt a need to look upon the rest of her.

“You are too beautiful to be treated as anything other than a gentleman should.”

She had a taste of him that had awakened her senses and knowing he was right, Grace slowly pulled away from the Lieutenant. She looked out upon the stream and the long grass on the far banks swaying in the breeze. The color in her cheeks eased leaving them freshly pink showing only the flush of health. Grace brushed the loose tendrils of her hair behind her ear.

“You are a kind man, Lieutenant Shepard,” she responded, “I wish we had the luxury of time to enjoy the good days, sharing good company and connecting with long-held dreams.”

Grace sighed softly. She did enjoy his company, and she didn’t want to give that up. She could have easily walked away, to separate herself, but she didn’t want to. Perhaps she was just too forward. Maybe he even had his own fair lady waiting back home. Grace never asked, and perhaps that was her own error.

Grace picked up a couple of small pebbles from the ground and tossed them one by one into the stream.

Benjamin slid his knees up closer to his body. In a way he was trying to prevent some awkwardness to continue now that something lit a flame in his desire and had an impact on his manhood. He didn’t feel so awkward that he wanted to leave, quite the opposite really. They shared a moment, and as forward as it was, it was still something special to him.

Instead he watch her pick up the pebbles, and followed the arch of her throw as it went to the stream. Simple, yet practiced. Like the woman had done it for ages. He smiled a little, envisioning the girl who sat out on this same blanket throwing pebbles into a stream. Part of him though of what she might do here, or why she would come here.

“Pardon, if I assume to much,” he started, “but I begin to have a thought of what I might have seen if I was a younger lad peering into this grove just a few years ago. It’s like there was this pretty blonde haired sprite. Sneaking away from her chores in all her precocious nature. Enjoying the freedom of such a refuge, one that is close enough to home that she could get back when the need arose, but still had this place where she could dare to do what was frowned upon.” Shrugging a little he smiled at the idea. “Or at least, I could only think as a boy that’s what I would hope to find. The good girl of the farm becoming the girl who wasn’t afraid to be something other than what she was supposed to be.”

Grace thought about that a moment. Though forward, he was amazingly accurate in his assumption. She closed her eyes a moment and took in a long breath. The memories before she went away to school came rushing back into her conscious mind.

---

It was a beautiful day, not unlike the day before. Grace was itching to just get out. Long hours of lessons, needlework and cooking drug on her spirit. She wanted to escape. Escape the every day and lose herself for a time. She knew just the place.

Her mother was still in the kitchen going over the menu with Sadie while Grace sat in the front room. Her father was going over the day's business in his study and her brothers will still running amok. They always got to do everything she wanted to. It wasn't fair. They could run around the yard and come in late and Daddy never said a word. It just wasn't fair.

Grace steeled her nerves and set the needlework down. Her fingers were tired and sore. She glanced around again and snuck off towards the front door. Grace eased the door open and she heard the tell-tale creak from the old wood. Her heart lurched into her throat. She didn't want to get caught. Grace slipped around the door and out the doorway, dashing down the stairs as fast as her feet could take her.

Grace was halfway across the front yard when she heard her mother yell in the distance

"Grace Lailynn Southern!"

Grace pulled the ribbons from her hair as she kept running, making her way between the fields and beyond to the grove. By the time she made the shade of the trees, her blonde tresses were tangled and wind-swept from her run, spilling down her back. When she stopped, her chest was heaving, labored from the sprint and her cheeks were touched with pink.

Grace made her way through the grove to the overly-large willow. She hugged it tightly and laughed. She laughed hard. She laughed so hard in fact, it brought tears to her eyes and when she released its trunk she found her spot in the tall grass and laid on her back. She looked up at the sky, watching as the billowy clouds passed by. The tips of the willow branches rustled and swayed, obstructing her view now and again. It wasn't so bad to run. She wasn't out of control. Why couldn't she be who she wanted to be?

------------

As the memory left her mind, and she opened her eyes, she realized she had inadvertently laid back. When reality slipped in, she could see the same blue sky, the same willowy branches but curious eyes were looking down on her.

"Forward maybe, but entirely accurate," she answered.

He looked different from this angle. It almost looked like he had an amused grin on his face.

At this angle she could remember the youngest of the brothers standing over her telling her it was time to go. His boyish smile, the way his hair flopped into his face when he looked down. She hated he had followed her and found this place. But it was best he knew. At least he knew where to find her when she disappeared. A smile creeped across her face.

"This place will not judge you, nor remind you of all the day's worry. It is a place where possibilities are realized. Here, there is no world to come crashing down on you, there is no conflict, no chores, no responsibilities, no voices telling you what should and should not happen. Here, I'm just... Grace. Does that make sense?"

He listened to her. His eyes never moving away from her face. At times she seemed lost in thought, a good memory here, a nice memory there. When her smile grew, he could feel the heart in his chest begin to beat further, anticipating words that would register true. As she spoke he couldn’t break his gaze, couldn’t help but to listen, couldn’t do anything but feel something grow stronger in his impressions of her. Then his smile grew to match hers.

“Yes,” he nearly whispered, “perfect sense. I understand.”

He finally turned away from gazing at her, and looked down at the soil at the edge of the blanket. “Though, my understanding is different, I believe.” His own memories touched his thoughts, but they were different and many times unpleasant. If this was a safe place, he thought, maybe this is where he can say it.

“For two years I have been with this army. Two years a Lieutenant with my father’s influence to commission me. Two years, it has never stopped. When there isn’t a fight, we must move, camp, eat. There is training, discipline, strategic meetings with my superiors. Every day I have to make decisions that … well, it is war.” He took a long deep breath. “There is no grove in war, Grace. Here doesn’t exist.“

There was a day not so long ago where the brigade pushed further than they should, caught out, flanked, and before he could mount the retreat ten good men fell. One, nothing more than a boy, was struck in this hip with a shot that was likely mortal. There was no time, however, to ambulance him out, so as they retreated the boy screamed to take him with. Lieutenant Shepard spent the next few days with those screams in his head. Standing tall, looking firm, planning for battle, remaining the stoic figure of a leader, all while the boy screaming at him relentlessly.

“While we’re here,” he said quietly, “may you … just here, can you call me Ben?”

Grace considered what he had to say. Two years was a long time to be away from home. More, it was difficult having to make decisions in a time of war. All the violence, all the suffering. Both sides had to suffer the same.

Young men never knowing if they would live or die in the next fight.

Every day, the same push.

He was right. There was no safe place in war. It ravaged everything on the battlefield. The battlefields were the open countryside, a landowner’s farm, an established city. The battlefields were perimeters of defense and offense, each trying to dominate the other, each fighting for different reasons. Soldiers cut off from their supply lines needing resources, having to scrape for their meals just so they could continue on the next day. The wounded, with festering injuries, would be living in pain and having to suffer the elements. Homes, farms and cities would be plundered and burned, leaving women, children and the elderly to suffer from starvation and sickness without the ability to run their farms and businesses. War didn’t differentiate between the righteous. There would be no respite until one or the other surrendered.

Clearly, there was no comparison. Their experiences differed greatly, thanks to their gender. War was an evil tool and it frightened Grace; all the more reason to take refuge in the grove.

“I can’t even begin to relate to what you’ve been through in the past two years. I am very sure it had worn on your physical presence as well as your mind. Hopefully, it hasn’t broken your heart. It is the heart that makes us human and if we lose it, we become monsters. I know there’s no safe place for any of us, but a moment of peace is a gift from God and we can only accept it with a willing heart.”

“While we’re here,” he said quietly, “may you … just here, can you call me Ben?”

It was unusual, of course. But this whole chance meeting was unusual. Grace looked up at the young lieutenant. No, he hadn’t lost his humanity, he felt it as strongly as she and it gave her a warm, comfortable feeling deep down. “Of course Ben, it would be my pleasure,” she answered, as another smile graced her lips.

“I’ve lived here all my life and it wasn’t until I went away to school that I realized life extended beyond the perimeter of the farm. It is only now that I really understand the world has a way of encroaching on the most established life.” She saw the look on his face and she expounded. “It comes down to this… the more I learn, the more I want to explore and experience,” she added. “But when I’m here, I have this nagging desire to take my shoes of and run through the grass and wait until someone finds me, telling me it's time for dinner. It’s quite disorienting to want both and I’m not sure how to handle that.”

Grace pointed out a large, billowy cloud, “Look, see there. Even the sky has its willow trees,” she announced quite smartly.

Benjamin leaned back, his hands flat against the ground behind him. As he listened to the woman describe her life, her time at school, her experience here in this glenn, he watched as much of the strong woman for her age as well as the little girl not quite ready to let go of her youth. As he looked up at the sky and watched the willow trees in the clouds he laughed, seeing that she did in that moment; truly beautiful strings of lines sliding off of white.

“Such a difference there in you and I, such a divide, but so close,” he thought out loud. “You look to experience, and see beyond your school and your farm. Yet you find this great peace at a place that is nothing but your home. While one would say that I am experiencing the world, and it is from that world I want to escape, to return to my home. Yet I find the same peace in this place, but it isn’t home for me.”

Then a thought came to his head, and with it a laugh.

“Maybe I should be selfish then.” He reached to his jacket and quickly began unbuttoning buttons on the coat until he was able to slide it off leaving him only in his thin undershirt. “I want to explore and experience what I have not … and I have a nagging desire as well.” He quickly unlaced his boots, kicking them childishly to the side and dragging worn socks that were underneath. “And, my dear lady, I have never had the experience the grass.”

He leaped to his feet, and stood in front of her, his bare toes digging into the ground.

“Care to join me?”

Grace laughed seeing him standing in front of her, bare feet planted on the ground. Yes, he reminded her just a bit of her brother. But taking her slippers off wasn’t an issue; the issue came from having to remove stockings that rose up high on her thighs. So much for her bare feet! Hm!

Grace thought about it for a moment and slipped out of her slippers. When she was down to her stocking feet she looked at Ben and commanded him in a totally girlish tone, “Now turn around Ben Shepard and no peeking!”

She waited until he turned around before she stood up. She pulled one side of her skirts up and released the bows that held one stocking up, then rolled the stocking down her leg and pulled her foot from it. She glanced up at the waiting lieutenant as she reached under her skirts on the other side and did the same. Once both her feet were bare, she smoothed out her skirts and laid the stockings by her slippers.

“Now you can turn around,” she announced before stepping from the blanket.
She hooked his arm much as she did earlier and led him towards the banks, into the soft, thick green carpet. It was warm out, but the cool earth was like nothing else. Especially here by the banks of the stream.

“Who am I to deny you of such an experience? It is every person’s duty to know simple pleasures. I like you, Ben,” she remarked. “I like your sense of duty and honor. But I also like you can escape them from time to time.”

His mind reeled some until their feet found the cool banks of the stream. His mind wandered to what would have been revealed as she slipped off her stockings behind his back, wondered even how it might feel to remove those stockings himself. Arm and arm with the woman along the bank keep the heat in his mind warm as his elbow pressed chastly into her side yet within brushing distance of her womanly curves.

”I like you, Ben. I like your sense of duty and honor. But I also like you can escape them from time to time.”

The statement made him blush hotly. It maybe just an observation, but not any less gratifying from one such as she.

“Well, I must say, I do respect the woman you present who leads this farm,” he confessed. “However, if this is the real you, Grace, escaping my duty and honor is a real pleasure. Which must mean I like you as well.”

After speaking he stopped, turned towards her slightly and moving to reach for her other hand. His desire for her was growing, and as pleasurable the walk in the grass was he felt the need to reach for her further. He looked towards her soft blue eyes and …

In a rush, the grass gave way under his toes. His foot slid out from beneath him and splashed into the edge of the water. He was crouched with one leg behind him into the mud, the other still on the grass, his knees free of stain and his face level with her waist.

Laughing slightly at his clumsyness, he looked down at this pants still clean from any mud, water, or otherwise yet and only the pride of his stumble tarnishing his body.

“Well,” he laughed, “that could have been worse.”

With that, his other foot slid out from under him, and he landed face first in the ground, his front of his pants laying flat in the muddy bottom of the stream.

Just as she had reached to brush his cheek the bank gave way. She cried out in surprise, “Oh Mercy! Ben!”

She fell to her knees on the side of the slippery bank and she crawled over to the very edge. “Ben! Are you hurt?” she asked, worriedly. Grace reached out for him to help him gain purchase. She could at least help there. When he had finally gained his footing, she bit at her lip seeing his state of dress. Grace clapped her hands across her mouth to avoid expelling the giggle that was welling in the depths of her tummy. It wasn’t funny, but it was!

It only took a moment and her willpower was all but gone. She laughed so hard she leaned a little too far forward and tumbled unceremoniously over, her laughing was quickly curtailed as a shocked squeal replaced her humor. Before she could catch herself she took herself and Ben down fully into the stream bed, leaving them soaked and stunned.

Grace exchanged glances with Ben when she had finally righted herself. She looked at him, and he at her, “Now this is a fine mess we’ve managed!” she exclaimed, and laughed again hard.

It's not that she'd never fallen from the bank, but it was very much something she did as a child. She couldn't help but to laugh. In all her formality and skirts, they were now effectively plastered to her body.