Demons at War Read online

  Copyright © 2019 P.A. Minyard

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Capraro Press.

  www.capraropress.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system — except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper — without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-943386-60-4 (pbk)

  ISBN 978-1-943386-59-8 (ebook)

  For Michelle

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  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  1 Brothers Divided

  2 Antietam

  3 Calm Before The Storm

  4 Almost Home

  5 Heaven’s Gate

  6 Uncharted Territory

  7 Stay The Course

  8 Headlong

  9 Goodbye

  10 Inside Out

  11 Lost And Found

  12 Devil Inside

  13 Desperate Intent

  14 A Brother’s Love

  15 Caught Unaware

  16 Innocence Lost

  17 First Step

  18 Venom And Virtue

  19 A More Perfect View

  20 Faith And Courage

  21 One Chance

  22 Trepidation

  23 Utmost Grace

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There is no greater role in this world than that of a teacher. Where would we be without them? Thank goodness they are not confined to the classroom but walk among us and with us as parents, siblings, friends and colleagues. The day we stop learning is the day we cease to live.

  This is my second book and the words on the subsequent pages came easier this time. Though not perfect when initially conceived, nor perfect now, they did fall into order much quicker and with less anguish. I learned a great deal from writing my first book. More importantly, I learned a great deal about writing itself from someone who believed in me and took the time to make me believe as well.

  Thank you, Tana Wojczuk, my editor, my teacher.

  And it would be sorely remiss of me if I didn’t give a nod to Xander Landfair. Thanks for sweeping up after both of us.

  1

  BROTHERS DIVIDED

  April 18, 1861

  Dear Jonathan,

  By now, you’ll have heard of the siege at Fort Sumter and our boys’ valiant struggle at the misguided hands of our Southern brothers.

  I had hoped to return soon from the Academy, but my services will be needed here. I can no longer stand idly by while the severing of ties throughout this nation continues. West Point has prepared me well. Please tell Father, Mother and Beth that though I’m young, they needn’t worry on my behalf — I’ll be home soon enough. Take heart in my belief that all will be set right, maybe even before you receive this letter. A show of force should end this conflict before it becomes a war.

  Your loving brother,

  Daniel

  Carefully folding the letter, Jonathan slid it to the bottom of the small stack on his dresser. It was the first his elder brother had sent over the past 16 months. He looked out his bedroom window at the peaceful scene that lay before him, the stillness only slightly broken by the faint chirping of crickets.

  It was late August and the mountains of northern Pennsylvania were still lush and green. The air was crisp and clear as evening approached. It was a far cry from what Daniel was surely faced with that night, yet Jonathan longed to be just like his brother. His thoughts turned toward glorious victory; a fearless charge into the face of danger as he waved his sword above his head urging his men forward. The deafening roar of battle or smoke thick enough to choke his breath was not a part of his fantasy.

  “Jonathan!” his mother called out to him. “Your father is going to want his supper. You know how grumpy he gets when you’re late.”

  Jonathan dipped his head and sighed, brought back to earth by his mother’s voice. He was already 15 but his parents often acted like he was too young to handle himself. He left his bedroom, and went downstairs to the kitchen where his mother packed up the food. “Are there extra rolls in there for Robert?” he asked.

  “Of course. How could I forget Robert?” she said. “That young man needs to find himself a wife.”

  Jonathan watched his mother knot the cloth. The look of her hands caught his eye, the thinning skin revealing the bones of her knuckles in detail. He had never thought of her as getting older until just then.

  Jonathan took the package his mother had thoughtfully wrapped for his father, noting the extra rolls for the plant foreman. The foundry was a mile and a half down the road, and it would probably be dark by the time he got there. As he walked along the dirt road, he kicked at stones and waved to neighbors as he passed by. He imagined himself a secret courier, delivering an important package to the Union headquarters. He tried to appear casual and unassuming so that no one would suspect who he was or what he carried.

  Robert was standing outside the front of the foundry when he arrived. They walked inside together so Jonathan could set down the food and find the rolls his mother had wrapped in a napkin for him.

  “You’re in luck tonight,” Jonathan said.

  “Your mother is a saint,” said Robert, gleefully jamming a roll in his mouth.

  “She thinks it’s time you found a wife.”

  “The women around here are too smart for that,” Robert said through a mouthful. He turned on his crutch to head back to the foundry, carrying the napkin full of rolls under his free arm. “Your father is in his office, and I’d say you’re just in time.”

  Jonathan knew what that meant. He grabbed up the rest of the food and went to find his father.

  Mr. Parker was poring over paperwork at his desk. He had removed his jacket and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. His coarse, black beard was peppered more with grey. In contrast, Jonathan’s blond hair and the features he’d inherited from his mother accentuated his youth. As he stepped closer to the desk, he could see the lines on his father’s forehead, exaggerated by the lamp’s dim light. The foundry had been contracted to aid in the construction of rifles for the army. His father kept operations going day and night to meet the demands.

  “I got here as soon as I could. I hope I’m not too late,” Jonathan said, setting the package down in front of his father.

  His father looked up and his face brightened. “Right on time. What wondrous feast has your mother made this evening?”

  “Roasted turkey, potatoes and fresh rolls.”

  “She’ll have to start sewing me new clothes,” his father chuckled. “I really shouldn’t be eating this late at night.”

  “How much longer will you be?”

  “Tell your mother another two hours. I’m sending Robert out with a shipment tomorrow morning and have to finalize all the paperwork. I’ve sent everyone else home.”

  On the walk back to the house, Jonathan thought again about Daniel. They hadn’t received word from him for weeks, and gaps between letters always raised concern. They followed the war through articles in the paper, but mainly they rehashed what people had already heard. Jonathan hated the engravings that accompanied the articles, images of young men marching, probably to their death. He shuddered to think of his brother lying in a field, his body disfigured by unforgiving bullets or worse. He knew better than to harbor such thoughts, but the darkness of the night seemed to welcome them, and he dared not share them with his family, not even
Beth.

  Jonathan could tell his sister Beth just about anything. She always listened intently, smiling, nodding, and rarely interjecting. She was 18 and though considered plain by some, her vivacity had attracted many suitors. Beth was no stranger to speaking her mind, but she had fallen ill of late. She was tired all the time and bruised easily. Over the past few months, her condition had worsened and now her eager young escorts were nowhere to be found. She was melancholy at times, and Jonathan tried to speak with her only of lighthearted matters.

  He arrived at home to find his mother and Beth sitting near the fire. Beth was engrossed in her book while his mother repaired a tear in one of his father’s shirts. He was constantly snagging his clothes down at the foundry.

  “How late tonight?” his mother asked.

  “Another two hours,” Jonathan responded. “Robert leaves in the morning with the next shipment.” He watched as his mother forced a smile, but he knew that she was scared, scared for Daniel, scared for Beth and scared that her husband would work himself to illness. Hopefully his efforts would help bring a welcome end to this war and hasten Daniel’s return.

  They all tried to keep busy, his mother in particular. Jonathan noticed that she’d taken to sewing every night instead of leaving it for the weekends, as had been her custom. He watched as she pushed strands of her blond hair away from her face. She continued sewing without looking up, but was unable to forestall the inevitable prick of her finger. Jonathan saw her wince each time she missed a stitch.

  “She never had such trouble in the past,” he thought. He remembered how she looked when he was younger and they would play together in the yard. Her hazel eyes sparkled in the sun. She was slender and always had a wink and nod for him. But time and age had slowed her down, and while she was still thin, Jonathan thought she looked frail in the firelight. Her soft, green dress hung from her frame.

  Jonathan turned his attention to Beth. She was seated awfully close to the fire. Maybe she was cold or the lamp was not enough to brighten the page she was reading. He noticed that she looked worn out as if she’d worked all day in the garden. But her skin wasn’t reddened. It was pale; an odd grayish white he’d never seen before. And the shadows cast by the dancing flames made the circles under her eyes look that much darker.

  “Still reading the same book?” Jonathan teased. “You don’t have to read all the lines to understand the story.”

  “Then, how can you claim to have read the book?” Beth countered. “I’ve more important thoughts than to fill my head with everything I read.”

  “Truly, it’s a mystery why you read at all.” Beth smiled, and rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to her book.

  “It’s been a long day,” her mother interjected before the frivolity could continue. “Jonathan, would you please help your sister to her room?”

  “Please, just a little while longer?” Beth pleaded. “I’m almost done with this chapter.”

  “The book will still be there for you tomorrow,” his mother said.

  Beth looked to Jonathan to come to her rescue, but he knew better than to get in the middle of this argument. She sighed and closed the book. Jonathan walked to her side, giving her his hand, steadying her to her feet. She struggled to maintain her balance but covered her embarrassment, dropping his hand and winking at him.

  “It seems we’ll make a proper gentleman out of you yet,” Beth said.

  “Jonathan? Jonathan!”

  His father’s voice rose sharply behind the door. “Your mother has asked you to get up twice now. Do you hear me in there? Jonathan!”

  “Yes, sir! I’m almost dressed,” he lied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He sighed and forced himself out of bed. The blankets seemed to hold him against his will. He bumbled around the room looking for clothes and stubbed his big toe twice before finally making his way down to the breakfast table, bleary and disheveled.

  “You can’t make a living out of sleeping just because you’re good at it,” his father said angrily.

  Jonathan tried to smooth out his shirt and smarten up his appearance, much to Beth’s amusement.

  “Your mother is counting on you to accompany her into town,” his father reminded him. “Will you conduct yourself in a timelier manner on her behalf?”

  “Yes, Father,” Jonathan replied, glancing over at Beth, who was having trouble containing her laughter. He shook his head and made a face at her. He didn’t know why she was so tickled; it was like every other morning at the house.

  Breakfast ended far more peacefully than it began, and as Beth cleared the table and his father set off for the foundry, Jonathan headed to the stable to prepare the horse and cart for a trip into town. He knew they would be gone all morning, maybe even part of the afternoon. His mother didn’t like leaving the house those days, as it meant leaving Beth alone too long or being out when news from Daniel could be on its way. Shopping was only a priority when all their resources had been exhausted.

  As they rode along, his mother chatted about which stores she wanted to visit and what she would buy. Jonathan almost drove past the first one, and his mother had to clear her throat, causing him to call abruptly for the horse to stop.

  He helped her down and waited by the cart while she went into the store. Across the street, Jonathan noticed his friend Joshua and smiled and waved as Joshua lumbered over to greet him. He was a year older than Jonathan and taller than the other boys their age. He was husky and imposing with thick, brown hair to the bottom of his neck. He intimidated most of the boys, but Jonathan only ever saw his big heart. They shook hands robustly, excited to see each other.

  “Helping your mother?” Joshua asked.

  “Yes, we’re picking up some supplies,” Jonathan replied, eager for conversation. “And you, helping your father out?” Jonathan looked around, expecting to see him.

  “We’re ordering paint. The barn needs repair.”

  “So, will you be coming to school next week?”

  “Not this year,” Joshua replied. “Father wants me to help run the farm. He won’t let me out of his sight. I think he’s afraid that I’ll run off and join Daniel.”

  “I know just what you mean,” Jonathan sighed. “We’d put an end to it, though, wouldn’t we?”

  “They wouldn’t know what’d hit them.”

  Jonathan looked back across the street and noticed Joshua’s little brother, Benjamin, had emerged from the store and was waiting patiently on the sidewalk. He was dressed in one of Joshua’s old shirts. The oversized garment swallowed him. His suspenders were barely able to contain the billowing material, which spilled out over the top of his pants.

  Joshua followed Jonathan’s gaze, and the smile fell from his face. “Will you do me a favor, Jonathan? Will you look after Benjamin at school? The boys will probably pick on him in my absence.”

  “He’s going to have to stand up for himself one day. You know that.” “I know. He’s just...” Joshua looked back at his brother, and Benjamin smiled and waved.

  Jonathan wondered if that’s how his own face looked when Daniel was around. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  “Have you heard from Daniel?” Joshua asked, as if breaking into his thoughts.

  “No, but you know how slow letters can be.”

  “And the army is constantly moving. Who knows how much time he gets to himself these days?” Joshua said.

  Jonathan nodded.

  “Well, I best be going,” Joshua said sheepishly.

  “See you soon, I hope,” Jonathan answered.

  His friend’s father was a harsh taskmaster, intolerant of frivolity. He would probably lay into Joshua for his brief absence. He watched as Joshua retrieved Benjamin and went into the store.

  “Jonathan?! Will you help me with this?” his mother called out behind him.

  He turned, red-faced with embarrassment, and ran to the store. The errands progressed as expected, and by mid-afternoon, Jonathan was unloading the supplies back at home
. Beth had started to prepare dinner, and his mother joined in as he went to return the horse to its stable. He unhooked the cart and freed the mare from her collar and leads, then diligently wiped down her glistening, brown coat before leaving her in the stall with food and water.

  After dinner, Jonathan completed his chores just in time to rest briefly before walking to the foundry with his father’s meal. Jonathan’s days had become monotonous — the next repeating the last with no end in sight. Keeping busy was no longer enough to temper his frustrations, and as he walked Beth back to her room for the evening, she could sense his distance.

  “You don’t have to go just yet,” Beth said as she sat down on her bed. “Tell me about your day.”

  “I shouldn’t keep you up,” Jonathan said, still moving toward the door.

  “Please stay,” Beth pleaded. He stopped and looked back at her. “Did you see anyone in town?” she pushed.

  “Josh was there with Benjamin,” he said as he stepped back into the room.

  “Well, you’ll be seeing lots of them with school starting.”

  “No,” Jonathan said, dropping his head. “Joshua won’t be coming back this year; his father wants him to help run the farm.”

  “I see,” Beth said. She tried to further the conversation. “Well, did you see anything new at the store?”

  “No, same as before — nothing new really.” Jonathan placed his hand on the back of his neck and began to fidget.

  “Why won’t you talk to me anymore?” Beth blurted out. “You used to tell me everything.”

  Jonathan looked back with surprise.

  “I know you’re worried about Daniel,” she pressed. “It’s all right to tell me, you know. I’m worried too.”

  “But you’re...” Jonathan stopped himself.

  “I’m what?! I’m sick? No one ever wants to say that word around me.” Her voice faltered. “As if I don’t know, as if not talking about it will make it go away.” She immediately regretted putting Jonathan on the spot as she watched his lower lip quiver and his eyes well up.