A Thousand Little Blessings (14 page)

“My father's aunt, actually. She visited me often while I was in school, and I spent the holidays with her.”

Gabriel held out his hand to Etta. She accepted the unspoken invitation without hesitation, and he curled his fingers around her small hand, which fit his like gears in a finely-made clock. She was everything he'd ever wanted, but she deserved so much better than what he could offer her.

They strolled toward the creek in silence, as though words were unnecessary in the starry sanctuary, and sat across from each other on large flat rocks near the bank. The water flowing over the limestone rocks and the low, sad call of a night bird should have lulled Gabriel into a peaceful reverie, but his pulse quickened every time he thought about telling Etta about St. Etienne.

Etta closed her eyes and folded her hands on her knees. She was praying. Talking to their Lord about her troubles. Goodness knew, she had enough on her plate. Etta was small in comparison to him, but she must have a spine of steel to withstand everything she was going through.

Gabriel gazed at the sky. Praying was a good idea. But what would he say to his Creator?
Thank You for my life?
He still didn't know why he'd been spared when so many hadn't.
Please help Etta?
She was one of those people the Lord held close to His heart. Anyone as good and kind as she need never worry about her future. Of course, the preacher said that God loved all his children, but surely the Lord had special regard for sweet souls like Etta.

Gabriel would need help to find the words to tell Etta about his mistake. He lowered his head and found Etta smiling at him. The lantern light shone on her lovely face, highlighting her strawberry-pink lips.

“Dr. Russell came by this afternoon,” she said in a quiet tone. “Papa's getting better. It's slow progress, but at least he's improving.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Etta placed her palms behind her and tipped her head toward the sky. “Rigel is shining brightly tonight. Orion is the first constellation I learned as a girl.”

“Etta,” Gabriel began. “This afternoon…in the stable…”

“I wasn't afraid, you know.”

“What?”

“When you knocked me down. I wasn't afraid. Not once.”

“I could have hurt you.”

Etta lowered her head and looked him squarely in the eye. “No you couldn't. It's not in your nature. You were protecting me.”

“You must have thought I'd gone crazy.”

“Not crazy. Just startled. The newspaper accounts of the battles in France describe horrific violence. They tell of artillery barrages and machine guns that can kill fifty soldiers in a matter of seconds. You were conditioned to dive for cover whenever you were threatened. This afternoon, those reflexes took over.” She was letting him off easy.

He could just accept her kindness and go on. But if he didn't tell her everything, his secret would be like a slow-acting poison, destroying the bond he hoped to make with her. “I appreciate your understanding, but there's more I need to tell you.”

Etta patiently waited for him to continue, her gaze never faltering.

Gabriel unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. “Do you remember when I told you I'd been injured?”

“Yes.”

“I want to tell you what happened. I don't know what you may think about me after I tell you this story, but…well, I'm hoping it'll help you understand why I may not be the most easy-going person to be around. At least, not for a while.”

“Were you easy-going before you joined the Army?”

“That's what most people said. Now I'm a bundle of nerves tied up in barbed wire.”

“I haven't seen you that way. Except for this afternoon, that is.”

“When I'm around you I feel calmer. But I don't sleep more than a few hours at a time, and I've stayed away from my parents because they irritate me so much. Taking care of your horses is about the only thing that doesn't aggravate me.”

“How do your parents annoy you?”

“It's not my parents who have the problem. It's me. Things that never bothered me before I joined the Army almost make me scream now. Like this morning during breakfast, my mother put the kettle on the stove, and it started to boil over. I sat at the table and waited for her to turn off the heat, but she was busy with something else. I kept sitting there, watching steam spew from that kettle and wondering when she was going to take it off the fire. Finally, I got up to do it myself, but she blocked me and said, ‘I've got it. Go finish your food.' I sat down and tried to eat, but she still didn't take the kettle off the stove.” Gabriel shook his head. “It's such a silly thing to get upset about, but I had to leave the house. I felt like my body was going to explode just like the kettle.”

“What did you do?”

“I went for a walk. That's what I do whenever I'm feeling tightly wound. I bet I've walked every square yard of Burnet County. Riding every day has helped, too. Antares loves to run.”

Etta looked toward the creek. Her face retained its usual placid, open countenance, giving Gabriel no clue about what she was thinking. After several minutes of quiet, she turned back to him. “You were going to tell me about being injured.”

Gabriel took a deep breath. He'd started this. He may as well finish it. “What did you read about the Battle at St. Etienne?”

“Not much. All I remember is that it happened last October.”

“That's right. It was the first and only time I saw action. Our regiment got there in late September. The Germans had plenty of time to place their artillery and machine guns in the most advantageous locations. As we made our way to our new camp, we came across unexploded shells, broken and discarded equipment, graves, and dead horses. The artillery bombardment had left jagged tree stumps and hills without tops. Observation balloons floated above the horizon, easily relaying our position to the German guns. It didn't take long for us to discover snipers in the trees and on rooftops. Barbed wire was stretched throughout the forest, so the only way to advance was straight on.”

“It sounds terrible.”

“It was. When the men saw what they were up against, all their bravado disappeared. The machine guns were the worst. The Germans had set them up with overlapping fields of fire, so when one gun was taken out another was already firing on the men. Have you ever seen a farmer using a scythe?”

Etta nodded.

“That's what it reminded me of. Men fell like blades of grass, crying out in pain and bleeding uncontrollably.”

“Is that how you were hurt?”

“No. The second day, Captain Brooks ordered me to take Sgt. Schmidt's squad, equip them with wire cutters, and scout out a way through the woods on the east side of the battlefield. Another squad took the west side. We left before dawn, easing our way through the trees and marking the trail with red paint. Then the shelling started. We were surrounded by thick trees and brush, but we could tell both sides were letting loose with everything they had.”

Gabriel shifted his gaze to the ground. He'd reached the part of the story that was the most difficult to tell, and, even though he'd relived it every day since, he hesitated to burden Etta with it.

“You don't have to tell me, Gabriel.”

He swallowed hard and looked at her. Telling her the rest of the story felt like betting his life on a hand of cards. What would she do once she knew?

“We kept working our way north, toward the village, and the smoke from the artillery bombardment grew thicker by the minute. We went another hundred yards or so when we came to a ravine that was too deep for our company to cross. I was doing my best to make a crude map as I went, but the heavy smoke was making it impossible to see what lay ahead of us. Sgt. Schmidt wanted to return to camp.” If only Gabriel had taken that advice.

His mind traveled back to that ravine. The pale morning sunlight had streamed through the smoke-laden treetops as the smell of gunpowder filled his nostrils. Schmidt and the others had looked to him for guidance, and he'd lead them to their deaths.

“So you decided to head east?”

Gabriel blinked at Etta. His mind had been trapped in the forest outside St. Etienne, and he'd forgotten she was there. “Yes,” he said slowly. “But I made the wrong choice.” He wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his trousers. He had to tell her the rest.

“I thought if we followed the edge of the ravine, we might find a spot where the company could cross. The shelling was constant, one blast on top of another, both sides firing nonstop.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. He mustn't cry in front of Etta. He mustn't be shamed any worse than he already was. “That's all I remember.”

He felt a gentle touch on his knee and lowered his hands. Etta knelt in front of him, her fingers barely touching him. “That's when you were injured?”

He nodded his head and swallowed. “My squad took a direct hit.”

“An artillery shell hit your men?”

He nodded. “There were non-stop explosions. I didn't even hear the one that hit us. But when I came to, we were lying in a crater.”

“Were any of your men killed?”

“Everyone except me.”

Etta gasped and widened her eyes.

“The blast knocked me out. The doctor told me I'd suffered a cerebral concussion, but after a few days, I was fine. The battle was over by then, and the armistice declared a few weeks later. I'd led my men to their deaths for nothing. Ten men dead because of me.”

A deep line appeared between her brows. “That's not true.”

“Yes, it is. If I'd turned back toward camp, they'd all be alive.”

“You can't know that for sure.”

“It was
my
decision, Etta. I'm responsible for their deaths.”

Etta frowned and sat on her heels. “Perhaps you would have been shelled in another spot on the way back. There's no way to know.”

“I was in charge. Those men trusted me to lead them safely through the woods and back to camp. I got lost, Etta. Lost in the smoke and noise.” A traitorous tear rolled down his cheek, and Gabriel closed his eyes.

A pair of lips as soft as dew kissed his tear away. Gabriel's breath caught in his throat.

“Sh…” Etta's warm breath caressed his skin. “It's all right.”

Gabriel hid his face in his sleeve. What kind of man would let a woman see him cry?

Etta stroked his hair and kissed his other cheek.

He couldn't take much more of this. If she continued to show him kindness and understanding, he'd break into childish sobs. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and nudged her away. “Stop, Etta. I can't…I don't want to…”

She retreated slowly and sat beside him. Did she understand why he'd rejected her tenderness? He fought for control, took a ragged breath, and reached for her hand. “Thank you.”

Etta rested her forehead on their joined hands. After a few seconds, she closed her eyes.

What must she think of him now? He'd failed his men and cried like a baby. Surely, this was the end of their friendship. How could a woman like Etta want a man as incompetent as he? A man who got lost in the woods and caused the death of every soldier in his squad?

“Amen,” Etta whispered.

“You were praying?”

Etta raised her head and nodded. “I didn't know what to say to you, so I prayed for guidance.”

“Did you get an answer?”

“I did. You need to forgive.”

“Forgive? Sorry, Etta, but I think you might have misinterpreted that answer. Maybe I need to seek forgiveness for my mistake, but there's no one I need to forgive.”

“Then you pray, and see what answer you get.”

“You think I haven't prayed?” He immediately regretted his strident tone. The truth was he hadn't really talked to the Lord for a long time. He let out a long, troubled sigh. “I'm so mixed up right now. I can't figure out what I should do or where I should go. I walk all night until I'm exhausted, and even then, sleep eludes me. When I'm awake, I feel like a lit stick of dynamite.”

“Would you like to pray about it?”

“What? Now?”

“That's the idea.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. What had he gotten himself into? “I guess so. If you want to.”

Etta bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, thank You for bringing Gabriel safely through the war. Thank You for the divine comfort You offer the families of the men who didn't return.” Etta was quiet for a few moments.

Did she expect Gabriel to chime in? He watched her from the corner of his eye.

“Tonight, I bring Gabriel to You. He feels lost and is unsure what he needs to do. Help him, Lord. Show him Your plan for the next part of his life. In Jesus's name I pray, Amen.” Etta opened her eyes and smiled at Gabriel. “Rev. Martin says the hardest part about praying is listening for God's answer.”

“I remember. He said people like to talk more than they like to listen. Maybe I do need to seek forgiveness. Did you know the men in that squad were all from Texas?”

“That's a coincidence.”

“Not really. The Thirty-sixth Division was made up of men from Texas and Oklahoma. My platoon was made up of men from Austin and its surrounding counties.”

“You must have gotten to know each other quite well.”

“That's how it is in the Army. I was stuck with the same people, day in and day out, and I soon learned everyone's story. Sergeant Schmidt was from Llano and Nichols, the guy I told you about who craved sugar so bad, he was from Seguin.”

“Practically neighbors.”

“If I wanted to, I could visit all ten of the men's families in about two weeks.”

Etta looked at him expectantly.

“You think that's it?”

“That's not for me to say.”

“It might help if I visited the men's families. I could tell them how their sons and husbands died. But, Etta…” A ponderous weight settled in Gabriel's chest as the enormity of the challenge crystallized in his mind. He'd have to admit his culpability to every father, mother, wife, and sweetheart his men had left behind. He'd have to confess his mistake over and over. He raised a hand to his head. “I don't know if I can do this.”