The Forgotten Ones (A Completed Steamy, Historical Romance)

September 29, 1863

Oliver's POV

For two months now I've been trying to make my way home. I was sent home finally last week.  I haven't sent word, because I'm worried how my wife will receive the news. 

She has been to hell, and I'm not sure if she has mentally made it back.  When I crossed the Indiana territory, I stopped at the Chapman home to visit Luis.  He said my wife is only a shell of the woman I left over a year ago.  The Chapman spared some horse,s and she is on patrol day and night.  She is convinced the war will again reach our family. 

He said she carries a revolver constantly even to bed at night.  Nobody can touch her except Patrick.  He is the only one she still trusts. Luis said there is some bad blood between her and Mae.  Mae is expecting, and it's very difficult for her to witness after the loss of our daughter.

I spent the night last night, and left before dawn to reach her as soon as possible.  I will not allow my travel companions around my home.  The last thing my wife needs right now is to see strangers.  Let alone soldiers showing up at her home.  Luis even gave me a suit so I won't show up as a soldier.

When I cleared the Ohio, I saw her on her horse on top of the hill. Instead of engaging me, she rode off.  I'm not sure if she is planning a surprise attack or if she knows it's me, but she did see me.  Thankfully, a moment later, I saw the silhouette of a man ride behind her that looked like Patrick. 

I slowly made my way home keeping my eyes peeled for my wife.  There were two mounted horses in front of the house and the riders are out of sight. 

I saw who looked like Mae run out to the porch and rush toward me. I slid carefully off my horse and she hugged me. "I'm so glad you're home!"

I didn't respond, because I'm not sure how I feel about being home.  "How is she today?  I saw Luis and he told me some disturbing things."  That is my main concern.

"She's the same as everyday, except Patrick watches her more closely these days.  Her paranoia only seems to grow by the day.  She almost shot Patrick a few days ago." 

I shook my head.  "I want to kill the men that did this to her." 

"You and Patrick both, but he did at least manage to shoot one dead."  We walked toward the house.

"Does she know I'm home?"

She nodded.  "She's in the kitchen trying to stay busy.  She seems frantic and mother is trying to calm her, but I fear she is making it worse."  We walked onto the porch and I could hear giggling coming from inside. My children are almost two now, so I'm sure they are getting around better than me at this point. 

She opens the door and I can hear pitter patter run away from me, but I didn't see them.  "Just so you are aware, she insisted on a death photograph of  Rose.  She carries it constantly, but Patrick took her revolver away." 

I feel my heart palpatate as we walk further inside.  "Don't get close to the children until she grants you permission.  She's obsessed with their safety." 

I saw one who has to be Elizabeth, peek out from behind the far wall then a giggle from the wall on the other side. 

"Mama!"  One of them said, then I heard tiny footsteps run away. 

"Mr. Westlake, it's so good to see you."  Mrs. Chapman walked into the foyer drying her hands on her apron. 

"It's good to see you too, ma'am." 

"I want to have a chat before you see my daughter."  She said. 

"Mother, we have spoken, and he really just wants to see his wife."  Mae informed her, but she just ignored her daughter.

"Please, join me in the parlor."  She pulled my arm, and I followed.

"Now, there are a few things you need to know."  She sat next to me. 

"I've spoken to Luis and did receive Armstrong's letter."

"I've afraid my daughter has gone mad since the loss of your dear child, Rose.  She still denies the child never lived, and I've tried to explain to her that..m"  she was interrupted.

"I'm not mad, Mother, and my child did live."  I turned when I heard my beautiful wife's voice. I couldn't believe my eyes.

My wife cannot weigh more than 80 pounds.  She had a scar above her right eye, and her hair is fastened up.  She is in something that's not her shift, but also not a proper dress. 

I stood. "Naomi."  I wanted to reach out and touch my beautiful bride, but I could see that would be a mistake. 

"Mr. Westlake.  It's good to see you finally decided to come home.  If you'll excuse me I have chores."  She walked away from me, and I believe my heart stopped beating.

"Do I have your permission to visit our children?" 

"You are nothing more than a stranger to them.  They may or may not take to you."  She walked away. 

"I'll gather the children."  Mae said.

"As I was saying, my daughter has gone mad.  I've written a friend about some proper treatment facilities..."

"My wife isn't going anywhere, Mrs. Chapman, and she's especially not mad.  She experienced trauma that you may or may not understand.  I'll make sure she gets the best care here at home with her family."  I said.

"Mr. Westlake, I don't feel you have a true understanding of my daughters condition.  She was never fully intact even as a child, and now I do believe she has gone into total madness."  She said.

"My wife was never mad and always has been fully intact. She is right to want to protect everyone, and yes she may have paranoia, but it is understandable, is it not?  You're trying to make her believe she is mad, but in truth, she understands the true harshness of this world.  She loves deeply and only wants her family safe.  How can she trust others to protect her, when Patrick was the only one that tried?  She's taking the safety of our children in her own hands, and I expect nothing less.  My wife is a casualty of war, and she needs time to heal.  Now, I'd like to visit my children, and when Naomi is ready to speak, I will be ready.  Thank you, Mrs. Chapman."